The letter from her mother from another time
reminded her of a loss that she could never find
its ink began fading line by line
her soul left crumpled, and feeling dead
for all the kind words that were never said
a lack of comfort that was never given…
or, ever read --
her only daughter banished away
from her mother to this day
and, so the letter not read collects its dust
because of all the years of broken trust.

a ****** Thursday
pain and horror meted out
it is time for us
to heal the wounds inflicted
and heal the wounds that led to
twisted misguided souls that
**** indiscriminately
or all too personally
raging or cold as a fly
more often armed to the teeth
a decision must be made
if not, we are doomed to have
blood on all our hands

"Our love is a burden."

"Then it isn't real love."

you played me like your favorite instrument
and plucked out all the joy from my life

at first, we lived in harmony
but then you destroyed a part of me

we said no strings attached
but now I'm tied in knots

we said we'd try and improvise
but ended up telling all those lies

you amplified your complaints
and struck me with a beat

even though we ended on the wrong note
our lyrics still get caught in my throat