How she sat there
with movement in her head.
A churning of learning
the ways to get ******
and slaughtered by
other people's
sons and daughters.

And how I sutured a gust
of her brain exhaust
into my chest, into my lungs--
I breathed her like I was
******* the end of a
tailpipe.

Her hands ran like busted tires
as she massaged my temples,
revving her voice,
my ears on her
suicide door lips.

There is no green light
in her red light country.

some people are like wounded animals
completely damaged
may God know why

and you shouldn't let them suffer
these wounded animals
no.. they should die

.       **You're A Gift From God              
                  At His Moment
                           Of Joy

I'm not saying that I want to die.
Not right now, anyway.
But lately, I just want to sleep.
To sleep and never wake.
I'm so tired.
Tired of everything.

The words sometimes come
from places unknown
making sense as i speak to myself
longing for the promise that has been made
i feel at unease all the time
it seems impossible like its not meant to be
the most beautiful love the most sacred thing
will never come to be