I am choking out syllables in an effort to feel better
What kind of poet am I
Using words for my own personal gain
I am less than words, even my own ****** ones
I am less than words because
I don't even know who I am
That I can claim any in the first place
Sometimes they are my alternative
Others the foreplay to danger
Words are just these
Things
I abuse and misuse
In an effort to escape my reality
If only for the length of a poem

use my body as a
blank canvas to express
each of your thoughts
through soft touches
and genuine kisses.

Come sew buttons into my eyes, and allow me to believe all of your lies.
For the beauty of love shall seep deep within; even if perception is fogged by your sins.

                                     Alysia Marie 2014 ©

I just love her, though,
at times she bites my fingers
when I try to pet  her ( )
belly, I will say, here.

Striped and sassy with fur so soft
she purrs , once  in awhile,
most of the time she runs.

She is essence and description
of feline, look her up,
Indignant, fierce.

She is my kitten. My best friend .

This is a poem about someone else
so don’t look away
don’t hurt yourself
(when you look in their eyes)
you might see me staring back
I am the mirror
and you’ve picked out the devil in the details
so grab hold of the one you love
and tell them that with every touch
     you feel the sun rise from your hips
tell yourself it isn’t a sin
that you’re still moved by the tornadoes I stoked
     when I stroked your skin
and we could be so wrong together
like the stars and the moon
  destined to outshine the other
but we can never be right for anyone else
(but) this is a poem about someone else
and if you’re on your own
don’t look away
don’t hurt yourself.

Stop that. What are you doing? Dont you know that hurts?
When I look in those eyes I see no love.
The pain from the judment of your peering glance makes me feel there is no one above.
I act with aggression, how can you be so ******* blind.
To the child you raised has been kept in his own mental bind.  
You punish not to help me but yourself but I guess thats fine.
It is no wonder why I am so selfish. How
to be cared for then would allow me to care now.  
All my anger was for you to see,
how much pain I was in from not feeling that you loved and cared about me.  
As I was only a child, how was I supposed to know.
But I understood words were meaningless though,
I grew attached.  
How much more your actions could have soothed me so,
but there was no chance.  
For you did not know your actions were so powerful
to have deflated my self worth and later my caring soul.  
All I wanted was some form of validation, that I too existed among my siblings three. I just wanted to feel loved too so I could have shared all of me.