I'd rip out all the stars in the sky
and leave it bare,
just to write you the poem you deserve,
with their everlasting glow and my benighted hands.
Because the darkness
had never been banished so swiftly,
as when I saw you
and you saw me.
Please keep a song of me in your heart,
as I'll keep your smile and this moment,
as I'll think about it too often,
too long.

And wouldn't it be divine,
if we found each other
on a starless night?

Tonight I had trouble sleeping,

because my heart was a weeping.

so I decided to take a moonlit walk,

to ponder on my thoughts.

It was like the trees were moving me along,

before I knew it the path was gone.

The cold wind made me shiver,

in the distance I could hear the trickling of a river.

Rustling noises echoed around me,

but I wasn't afraid, what was to become of me.

My heart has been broken,

words left unspoken.

So if tonight I was to die,

I wouldn't cry.

I came to rest in a small clearing,

suddenly mounds with crosses on started appearing.

I was drawn to this one cross,

it was different, new not covered in moss.

Like magic I was there reading the name,

it was mine, I must be going insane.

Violently I was swung around,

I screamed at what I found.

Hanging from a single tree,

my lifeless body was all I could see.

Then a voice spoke though the wind,

this is the message it did bring.

Is this how you want to be found?

hanging from a tree, then buried in the ground.

All these graves belong to people like you,

left broken not knowing what to do.

But there is one difference, you are strong,

this isn't where you belong.

They didn't have your choices,

their lovers cut their voices.

You need to go home and see,

how much you are loved, just trust in me.

Then NEVER return to this place,

or else next time a different fate you will face.

A child born in grace,
precious, innocent, and pure.
She bear an empty canvas.
An opportunity for more.

Born with the God given right to be guided, loved, protected and safe.
From the start she was trained to fight or flee.
Little did anyone know she was blessed with undying faith.

Ignored and envied
she quickly became.
A mistake and burden they said,
she was but an opponent, in an endless game.

In competition for her every need.
Her unworthy adversary?
A burnt spoon of ******, and only a syringe that could fill the need .

A pill, a rock, a smoke.
Lust, greed, and ***? It must be fun.
She fought tirelessly
but sadly never won.

She watched the devils playground grow wild.
Long nights sitting cold, lonely and guarded.
Could they really hate a child?

She held onto her last drop of hope, but no one every came.
No one ever spoke.
Not even a smile or a hug. They never even mentioned her name.

Too young to understand then.
She lost the competition for maternal love.
Mommy belonged to dealers, withdrawals, and motel men.
Baby girl had only her God up above.

She must be someone's little girl.
Guilty until proven otherwise.
Handed a life sentence on a familiar path.
Now painfully addicted with no disguise.

High as kite on a hot LA night.
"She's dead to me now, but where's my other half?"
Did he ever put up a fight? Did he ever want me?

Does he know I exist?
He could know all to well, with no love or care.
Was he also lost and sick?
Was he missing his little girl or is life truly this un-fair.

I loved and adored the idea of what he might be.
My protection; my father.
Could he possibly love me.
Meanwhile the voice inside says "why bother?"

He's my only hope for unconditional love and a real connection.
My dreams were how I identified.
Never considering his rejection.
"He's a drunk!" she screamed at me.
To cope, I have to believe that she lied.

My daddy has to be mine.

He's cute.
His soul is beautiful, despite every imperfection, forcing me to crave the moments he opens up and takes me into it.

He has gorgeous brown eyes.
Under a layer of determination, arrogance and confidence, his eyes tell the story of rejection and self doubt. They are strong. They tell a story.

Messy hair, don’t care.
I’ve never known someone who could care less and seem so beautiful for it. Captivation without trying shows the true person.

His hands are strong.**
Yet for every twisted weakness within, I can melt in his arms. I wish I could stay there forever.

when i was 10,
my father said,
"i'll walk the aisle when you wed. "
when i was 12,
my father unfurled,
"you're dead to me if you like girls."
when i was 14,
my father cried,
"slit those wrists, say goodbye."
when i was 15,
my father did grieve,
"pick up your bags, i need you to leave."
now at 16,
my father is silent.
my home is too far,
my wrists are still violent.
my family is none,
my bones have grown weary.
life's closing my door;
deaths locking the windows,
im trapped in a shell
of homosexual innuendos.