I often digress that I
Am sick and tired of all you poets
With all your literal genius
The hypocrisy is mine

I must say, that I;
against all grain, have established
Individualism
Not synonymous
With hubris

For some time
I waded through the shallow
Darkness, seeking closure
All I found was me

Sitting in the corner

Alone

So I grabbed my hand, and said:
"You can rebel and yell music get tattoos kiss girls eat sweets and...
...love yourself"
And I believed me

Just another
Amateur poem
From the happiest girl
On the saddest world

My thighs frame your cheeks,
Tambourine tantrum in the sheets.

This is the hanging thread
A long string of
Unspoken words
The rope that at one end
Holds down hearts
And at another
Coils around your
Wrist

Perhaps you weren't awake
During the moonlight hours
Looming reflections of today
Glass to my feet

This is the part
Where I write all the emotions down
And outwardly spew blame
Towards the victim of my insecurities
Whom I see as their
Beginning

I
Me
My
We?

I came home today with
A basket of metaphorical flowers
Chrysanthemums and Roses
All the pretty colors of fake
Yet you saw only the thorns
Of our punctured reality

In bleeding hands is the trust
Heart, soul and mind
As well as
Blood-borne illness

All items are
Brittle, apt to break
Yet I bloodied these fingertips
You did not
Toil

You only whisper to me anymore
Still cannot conceal the scent
Of displeasure
Taste
Of bile

Here are the musings
I have failed to intone even softly
Under my breath
For you fail to listen
While you are
*Awake

Distance

























Given to birth loneliness


                                                    ­                                                    Space


Lie­s fill gaping mistrusts
Between

Barriers pierced
Walls of flesh sing
R  h  y  t  h  m  i  c

Beating

B
  l
   e
    e
     d
       i
        n
         g

Soul to soul
Alas, not heartfelt
Sinister lurks behind
Veils of deceit

One bond
          Two chances
Three minds
          For what?

The end
Unanimous
Defeat

Love is
                                 Wither
Love is
                                 Perish
Beautiful poison

Lust is
   Three

Lust is

Lust
    
        *is

I became rich
With fortune found beneath
A warm kiss drip dropping
Onto my cold breast

Twas yesterday left
And today it was sound
I seek home to rest
And it's here I'll be found

No longer just one
But of many I am
Many who stay here
Who call me their fam