Lethal vines wrapped in cotton,
Complex thoughts rotten,
Divulged emotions best kept hidden,
Vicious teeth and cautiousness of being bitten,
Eavesdropping inside your subconscious,
Thoughts mischievous,
Open up my love, open up your heart,
We will never have an ending and this will be the start.

I'm never really good with words
No, I'm not talking about my vocabulary strength,      
nor my ability to string words into a clean knot of similes and oxymorons at a perfect length
where I appease the regulations of grammar,
and please the cynical brains of strangers,
I am talking about the sound trapped beneath the fat folds of my brain,
the trains of thinking, never-blinking, that keep my outcasted thoughts sane,
I am talking about the voice of a teen filled with angst and unfulfillment
hellfire livid, mistaken as tepid, burning inside the sanctuary's core that is my heart lacking of discernment

I'm never really good with words
No, I'm not talking about my skills at spelling,
nor my knowledge of historical people invested in writing
although I could say I, myself, would become history
just because I write in my own disposition and misery,
but what good would that be?
That my pen speaks louder than my voice,
and that a stick of ink triumphs over the blistering fire raging in my ventricles
Are you not entertained?
Seeing me crumble like lava rocks beneath your toes
and soon, I will be one with the ash that aimlessly goes around
and around and around you and the others that detest my will to speak
because apparently I’m a silent know-it-all, too fragile and meek
to survive in an obstacle course that is my existence  
Enlighten me,
you people who hold the needles and threads
How dare you ask for my preference of color
if my liberty to speak is dead?

I'm never really good with words,
so maybe it would be better not to say them at all

I'm sorry.
Twas not my finger that pulled a trigger
Nor was it my signature that sealed the fate
Of an exploding bomb delivering destruction,
Death,
Loss,
Pain,
Suffering.
But I'm still sorry.

My sorry eyes have been blind but always teary,
Guilty,
Helpless,
Longing,
I see your pictures and ache to hold you,
Comfort you,
Soothe you,
Help you.
So sorry.

But I tell myself I need a car,
I need to save,
I need to eat,
I need to think of that trip home,
Christmas presents,
Next weekend,
I need the money but
You need to survive and
I need to wake up and instead of being
Sorry,
I need to be helpful.

We all do.

Lean your head
On my
Bare
Hip
And taste
Sweet,
Pure
Freedom.

Let these
empty
sheets
Cover this
naked
Body
Of mine
With relief.

Let my ankle
Feel
The pain
Of your
Passionate
Kiss,
As we both know
It is our last.

Close your eyes,
Love,
As you did mine
Once,
So you won't see
My shadowed
Steps
Walking away.

Take your farewell
And cover it
With clothing,
But it will still be
Too much
For our
One hour
Love story.

As I stare into your alluring eyes,
You gaze back at mine,
Nibbling on her lower lips,
Enticing me into her soul.

She grabs my hand,
A thousand white feathers shimmering,
I Grab her hourglass waist,
And whisper "Kiss me"

Be still...as the rain falls, steady in the storm, fearless in the dark, mindful with love, soft with every touch, wise with your actions, thoughtful with your words, forgetful of your worries and doubts, slow to your anger, weak in your judgement, strong with your passion and passionate with your life.

Living so far north in the light
when you have a perch by the sea
the constant in a world of change
night is but a memory, gone by

You find yourself almost eternal
on an eternal plane in your mind
in the day looking out to sea
passed over into a peaceful realm.

You don’t always have to
wear a red cape
to swoop in and save your
super friends.

Sometimes you can
share the burden.
Sometimes you can
let me in.

Then I will be wearing
my own green cape
cause green is great
and it’s my favorite color.