Perpetually lost
Figuratively stuck
Exhaustingly overworked
Disgustingly underpaid
Literally confused
Effortlessly cliche
Beautifully me

Every one knows cigarettes and liquor
Are temporary
Rough *** and late drives end as quickly as they began
You stop tripping and rolling once you wake up
How foolish of me to think you were forever

She always said, “I love you”
And I believe she did,
She had the kind of honesty you only see in kids.
Perhaps a little simple,
More than just naïve,
But she was so devoted,
She was never mean,
Happy just to please,
She accepted what she lacked,
In a storm, she would give the shirt right off her back
and now we will remember
She’s gone a few hours,
We think about her family….and where to send the flowers?

Artists are often
broken people
using the fragments of themselves
to create something new
and although
being healed
feels so complete
sometimes i want to be broken again
sometimes i want open wounds
so i can use the blood
to paint sunsets
so i can use the torn off pieces of skin as a canvas
so i can carve
masterpieces with the jagged bones left behind
but I can't bring myself to break my own heart in the name of Art

I took the crown off my head
To make myself more approachable
To you
And in doing so
Forgot that I ever owned one