truth be told,
I am not that bold.
It is a jab into my eye,
a reality full of lies that my mom blames this distress.
Hold on, I can't tell black from white. Might as well be blind, I can predict even the scenic route that people doubt. My whereabouts are no longer in a crowd, standing with witnesses is unhealthy for me.
I want privacy, isn't being alone key anyways? Who is to care
if I write "Beware" or just  stare. In the end, there is this sentence left to bare. Always interpreting the language I so rarely speak. Energy may flow for others, but I am not a plug one can spark by lousy remarks.

Valentine is over
One door has closed
Others can't be open
Valentine is over
Can't seem to fit in
I'm just a burden
Valentine is over
This year is history
Next year is frozen
Valentine is over
Happiness is red
Sad clown is in bed
Valentine is over
Dreams are weaved
Hope is my holder

Miss Maiden,
might I compare you
to that of the guillotine?

Your swooping grace
like the edge of a
shining
silvery blade
that curves and cuts
across the sky
so seductively
slitting the throat
of the horizon

From the threshold of dreams
to bring a new day
Where we feed our blood
back into the monotonous machine
then drop to our knees
and pray for divine intervention

My femme fatale,
Could you take me out of this?
to break cycle
before you wax away

You know you were always
my favorite deity,

Artemis, Artemis
You’re the art I miss
from a life unfulfilled
From the music

The untold story
agonizing inside
writhing for a release

So I’m drawing you down
to this plane
to hunt me as a willing sacrifice.

Won’t you drop from the sky
and come blow my mind?

Just leave my head in the basket.