What's the purpose of control if I'm just going to lose it
From the on going pain of trying to make it work with you
Setting a blaze the demons leaving you
Instilling  the will to rise from the broken promises that sustain what little remains
Of my patience tolerating your emotional abuse

When I get those cute texts from my boyfriend.......


...............I close my eyes and wish I was still getting them from you

every now and then
I receive emails from former students
with pictures of their newborns

each time
I am deeply touched
that they feel
I would like to know
about their lives’ great events

I reply with loving mails
congratulating them
wishing them much joy
    and patience
with their adorable offsprings

it is just nice to know
that the people
whose lives you shared for a few years
are doing well

She was an acoustic version of herself,
Stripped down,
Strummed by life's callous fingers.

solely engrossed, slow to emotions
prone to be a soul that is broken
lowly focus, frozen devotion
vocal notions erode when unspoken

(doing fine, i lie with a smile
while i fight my own quiet trial
i clear my head, i'm alright for a while
but
a mind that is clear is a mind in denial)

goal, avoidance of a throat opened
my vocal notions will go unspoken
choking on the voices stolen
prone to be a soul that is broken

how easily i gave all
of me to
this soulless dance.
years of passion and ballroom lessons
to be a shadow
puppet, a
wind up doll
in line with your
every movement
alligned to your
whim

i don't know where
the music's gone.

i want to feel my body.
i want to feel the rain.

What fools we are to spend our lives
not painting or *******
What feels better in our hands
than a brush or a lover
To feel the paint spread along the canvass
And tounges pressed against our flesh
To explore and mix colors before our eyes
And tangle and twist our limbs
To merge heaven and hell with water and paper
And lust and sin with lips and skin
Push the sky with oil and knife
Open legs with mouth and breath
Make flowers bloom in eternal night
Draw moans from throat and *****
Let the paint and nectar flow
Melt flesh and expose our souls
Passion paints desire
Desire burns our bones
Lets not waste our time
And hold brush and lust and love
And paint our every hour
and grind hips to lips to sin and moan
Lets not waste what little time
We have to make life beautiful