**** these tiny butterflies,
that rest in my stomach,
and expand in my chest...

like little paper knives,
i choke.  

and
ill block my lungs one day,
and ***** them up,
coughing out each wing
and eyeball and
tooth
.
.
.

even if theyve got my tongue twisted,
and my brain scattered,

like paint,
it is venom to my
squeezing, breathing heart
and
one day
ill rip out my
intestines
just to see them
gone.

Sometimes I feel like a puzzle piece
Looking for the perfect spot
But actually finding a connection
Is harder than I would have thought

Sometimes I find a section
That looks exactly like my hue
But our edges just won't match up
And I have to begin my search anew

I recently thought I found my place
Where everything seemed to fit
Together we'd be a work of art
I thought this was finally it

But once we started to get closer
I noticed that something was wrong
Our pieces wouldn't fit together
And I once again would not belong

I didn't want to search anymore
After the years of frustration
So I came to the conclusion
It was time for an alteration

There were pieces of myself
I thought I could afford to lose
So I began hacking at my edges
And changing some of my views

Even with the changes though
We could never be a match
I couldn't become the proper shape
For us to be able to attach

But as I turned to leave
It occurred to me what I'd done
I'd altered myself forever
And might not ever fit anyone

My once perfectly smooth edges
Were now ugly and uneven
And so I left it all behind
Thinking I had nothing to believe in  

While I wandered around the world
Feeling helpless and alone
I soon discovered a brand new place
Called the crooked puzzle zone

It was a city full of misfits
Who thought they'd never find their place
They were all so friendly and welcoming
Of my broken, tattered face

Together we still make beautiful art
It's just a little more abstract
And though we don't have our "perfect pairs"
We can still happily interact.

So whenever you're feeling down
And life has made you weary
Remember the world is full of puzzles
And every piece is necessary

I've finally removed the dirt from my eyes
So the light of the truth blinds me.
How could I have been so naive
To think that we could live in peace?

You shook my walls
And I trembled in fear.
Your words pierced my skin of paper
Left holes large and small.
The intensity of your stare
Glued me to the wall.

But revenge is the sweetest
When it's drizzled and shame
And topped with the pieces of his brain.
You paid too much attention
To keeping me down.
Now I'm successful
And you're empty on the ground.

How can I help my brother
When my own pain won't abate?
How can I lift my sister
When I can't move my own weight?
How can I feed the hungry
When I can't fill my own plate?
I help folk who feel guilty
Yet I can't clean my own slate...
Is there a way to move them
Through the vagaries of fate?

There are principles in life
Which always undergird
Many are the trials of life
I've only seen one-third
Sometimes we are captured
A sadly cag-ed bird
But one thing ALWAYS brightens days
Perhaps you may have heard
A smile that reaches to the eyes

And a KINDLY SPOKEN WORD.


SoulSurvivor
(C) 3/7/2016

I oftentimes recall a boy,
To whom all life was simple joy,
Who never let life get him down,
And reached for the celestial crown.

Although inside his heart was broke,
He'd treat life as just a joke.
Good friends he never seemed without-
To see him smile removed all doubt.

One day he ate a box of pills,
And finished with all earthly thrills,
To think of it brings me a chill,
I wish that he was smiling still...

I don't know how to write of love,
It's unfamiliar territory,
Like a hand in an oversized glove,
Or a moral with no story.

If I could write about the way
I put all faith in you,
And how you returned that faith to me,
That alone wouldn't do.

I could write about attractiveness-
Of skin as smooth as milk,
Of eyes that heal my sadness,
And a touch as light as silk.

That still doesn't quite do it though,
It doesn't seem enough,
To quote the cannibilistic king-
"This subject is quite tough!"

I could write about the words we share,
When we're together and alone,
Or of holding hands in public,
Or crying on the phone,

Or how we long to hold each other,
Or hear the other's voice,
How just being with each other
Feels like the only choice.

Yes, I could talk all day about the way
Your feelings make me feel
But as fishing-rod designers say;
"It's time to make this reel."

Because real love's not as romantic
As the the love seen on T.V,
Or how it looks in certain books,
And classical poetry.

There's arguements at midnight,
There's anger and despair,
And times when you may feel like
The other doesn't care.

There are times you feel you're talking
And the other doesn't hear,
There's feeling you're not good enough,
Caused by jealousy and fear.

It's giving the other power
To destroy your hopes and dreams,
To tear your heart completely
And sometimes that's how it seems.

No- I don't know how to write of love,
Because the realism shows through,
To quote the cannibal king once more-
"This subject's hard to chew."

So I will not bore you anymore
On things I can't convey
And feelings which I am not sure
You're feeling anyway,

But I'll leave you with some sound advice-
Being in love can be the best,
Or else it turns your heart to ice
(To which many can attest.)

I won't recommend you plunge right in,
Or back off altogether,
But it will not stay as it begins-
Love changes like the weather.

When she looks you up and down
Like the men you cross paths with on the street
Do not cast your eyes to the floor
Stand tall; despite the heat

When your mother tells you to keep your tiny jeans
In hopes of shedding weight like snakeskin
Cut the denim in strips
And place it all around her kitchen

When she throws your baked goods away
And replaces them with everything sugar-free
Send dozens of cupcakes to her doorstep
Then proceed to eat as a hyperbole

When your mother purchases running shoes and sports bras
Walk around the house in your under-things
Lounge in the bathtub with a bear claw
Do not let her control your way of being