You do not **** a goddess.
You open up her chest,
looking for magic
and leaving darkness instead.
You caress her skin
until the stars cut through it
from the inside,
eager to be touched as well.
You look for the universe in her eyes
and you get lost,
while she has to find you again.
You do not **** a goddess,
you do not make her less than she is,
but you lose her,
if while worshipping her
you forget that she bleeds.

She will never know that I still love her so
That I would still give her the world if I could afford to do so
All she knows is that I became this ******* and told her to go
So she pushed me away shouting I hope you burn
Not realizing that my heart and soul were already engulfed in flames
As I secretly cried saying I hope you find mr.right
She doesn't know how I spent the rest of that night
That I watched her walk away until she was out of sight
Before collapsing to my knees and began to cry with all my might

do you think you'll ever lay her to rest?
allow her to sleep?
she's stayed awake for months on end
and every time she tried to close her eyes
you shook her awake
again

telling just one more tale
one more tall story
one more lie
that we must all
simply listen to

listen to this little ditty
i'm sure you'll recall it
once i'm done
do you remember the time we...?
no.. not really..

without sleep
all she sees are hallucinations
disjointed recollections
of the tissue paper life
that blows..

in the breeze

did you know
sleep deprivation
is a form of torture?

and you have kept her up
long enough

and she's tired of being worn
like an overcoat
as your splendid outer garment
in all it's melancholy finery
passersby remark
on how well you wear her
and you have the audacity to say
'Oh this old thing'

she's wearing thin and eventually
she'll disappear
altogether

she's becoming threadbare in places
and no matter how tightly
you wrap yourself up in her
she won't keep you warm

but that's only because
you don't want her to get warm
or let her go to sleep
you just won't let her rest in peace
will you

Sometimes the purist souls
Are the ones who always get hurt


Stay strong A.M. ❤

Life is quite eccentric,
Its motives are arcane,
Storms may rage and sputter.
The sun may rise again.

Agony may perish.
Ecstasy may dwindle.
Days may last forever.
Time may lie or swindle.

Life’s but a dalliance;
A ripple on a wave.
All in life that’s certain
Is life cannot be saved.

Will you be encumbered on the day your life says goodnight?
Or will you melt in anguish as your soul takes final flight?