You used to adore me
Then I finally let you in
And now all you see
Are my flaws and insecurities

Is it all in my head
Or did you prove myself right
Is it because of what I said
Or what I did that night

I was so stupid
I was so foolish
I knew I shouldn’t have done it
But couldn’t help and be selfish

All I wanted was to express
And now I’m depressed
Because of the excess
Actions I could’ve accessed

I can be obsessive
But please see my intentions
I was trying to be impressive
But all it caused was tension

This is my flaw, I know
I just wanted to show
All the love that you deserve
But it’s that I couldn’t preserve

In case no one gets it,
i collect my excerpts
better
than i spell my prayer.
Spills my personal feelings
and trouble,
longer than i bow
on my knees.

i memorize every shame
and quote it
in a piece of paper,
the same stroke
they did to break
my bones.
Marks down
every of their tone
when i got yelled at,
being degraded.

In case no one gets it,
i use my fingertips to fight.
Being sure of my words,
but never myself.

They can take off my guts,
break down my sanity
into pieces of insecurity.
Yet i’m here to remain bold
until the last spill of ink,
and my pen
can no longer stand.

I know, you know
That I know, to look beyond the obscure dignities,
they're deceptions rooted in loss
created to alleviate the weight of your entire being,
You cannot deceive me
Because your soul is beautiful and pure,
This is the source of your true power

The apple rumbled down the aisle
          and stopped beside a boot.
The groom beheld its crimson glow
          and stooped to get the fruit.

The bride could not resist a bite
          when tempted by the groom.
The juice ran down her comely face
          like nectar on a bloom.

The groom ate of the fruit as well
          in solidarity
with her with whom he vowed to share
          the knowledge from the tree.

The guests did cheer but did not hear
          the serpent's sneering hiss.
The apple soon would take its toll
          beginning with a kiss.

The poem is not for a contest. It is for sharing.

The poem is the prize.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS