You shattered me, my creator
I was built up by you, to be your muse


And you broke me, whole heartedly
your fist cracked through, and my nose drew


Crimson paint, that you then took
and painted away


On your new canvas


And there I am, at last, remade

I just wanted a breath of fresh air.

That is why I opened the window,
to see the sun, my skin, too fair.

I did it not to let the hurling storm in
To make a mess of my room, because of the wind.

I did it to breathe for once, at par
With the sky that drags north breezes from afar.

But in the end, who would blame the wind?
For I am the one, who opened the curtains.

my arms are heavy as they hang to the side

dripping ******, puddles of mahogany

i look up to see

anger in your eyes.

shattered glass lays dead on the floor

broken peaces of a reflection i recognized once before

and your tongue whips letters, form into words

oh, and how they hurt
oh, and why they hurt
what for?

I am fourteen
and my skin has betrayed me
the boy I cannot live without
still ***** his thumb
in secret
how come my knees are
always so ashy
what if I die
before morning
and momma's in the bedroom
with the door closed.

I have to learn how to dance
in time for the next party
my room is too small for me
suppose I die before graduation
they will sing sad melodies
but finally
tell the truth about me
There is nothing I want to do
and too much
that has to be done
and momma's in the bedroom
with the door closed.

Nobody even stops to think
about my side of it
I should have been on Math Team
my marks were better than his
why do I have to be
the one
I have nothing to wear tomorrow
will I live long enough
to grow up
and momma's in the bedroom
with the door closed.

You’re sickeningly intoxicated
With your orange blossom smoke

that rises from the tip of your shrivelled down kif

It’s makes me gag, it makes me choke

the scent of calabrian bergamot,
it sits in the back of my throat

and yet the blanc musk that you leave behind

leaves me wanting more,
I chase wildly as I climb up the grape vine

I cringe at the despise, at the hypocrisy, that fills my mind with those blessed be

scents, and notes
of fruity floral dope

Sigh, what if I die?
Before morning
And no one remembers the note
I wrote

So you will be left with thoughts of nothing
And it’ll all be just a cruel, cruel, joke

Are my tears making you choke?

Or is it the laughter, I used to bring
to your beating heart
That now doesn’t sound a thing

Like the stringless harp

That I broke
And now just sits alone
Near your window

So I’d be glad I was dead
Cause then
I won’t remember all the **** I did

To you

Or to anyone
Affected by my choice

I am pre olympique when I breath, a son from the 12 if you please

I hold up the skies on the cloudy nights
or when there is nothing but coloured lights

The grandfather, Uranus, he is who I hold
up as he is heaven for his story to be told

My shoulders weigh down as the bearer of bad news
Bad days and bad storms too

And when the clouds cry, I chuckle a ‘tee-hee’
For as when the new race of humans believe
And they get a sense of that cold breeze

They don’t realize the rain that falls
isn’t even rain, not really a little bit
not really even at all

For when I hide away
And get betrayed

But not by Herakles, no by the world
By the one whom I hold

I let them fall
The tears of a titan
The tears of a little girl

Human and all