....Anf you swallowed the stars
As I drank the last moon
And we assaulted the night,

Woman, perhaps the violent
Touch like a river winding
Into the ravine where no dawn
Touches,

Perhaps I will find you
There in the moist of dawn's lips,
Taken aback like a surprised flower,
And all the world is a black rose,

Here I hold you blackest night,
Where the light escapes
Your ***** and I enter the edge
Of nowhere and forever
Take in rain of deepest tears....

Echoes of the child
Lost in a first virgins moan,
Take the heart where it beats no more
And I will be there in the ember,
Each a glory unto your night,

Set it on fire,
The blaze of your body
Where the nocturnal lovers
Die,
And awaken like in a blaze
Reborn in the fiery night.

I woke up confused.
I asked: what happened?
I’m broken and bruised.
Silently and violently, I was attacked.

I’m still curious to know what really happened.

The attack tears through my mind.
I’m separated from the world.
My mind was stolen.
As usual, I’m exposed to horrible migraines.

Oh! My God, it’s another seizure.

It’s one of many since childhood.
Oh! you inevitable silent attacker.
We’ve walked together since childhood.
You’ve got the nerve to even attack me at home.

I still can’t get used to our long-term one sided relationship.
Every epileptic seizure still hurt like the first time.

https://www.facebook.com/EpilepsyandCpfriends/

i guess you never know
when you've gone too far,
you take & you take & you take,
and you break my self esteem and god i want
to hate you so bad,
but i never write about you so i guess my words mean
i care too much,
or not enough, or somewhere in between.
the lines of my heart are blurring with
the ones in my head, because
sometimes i even think i want you
(i know-- crazy, right?)
but i am a wildflower and you-
you are the hurricane trying to stamp me into the ground.
i told you i can take a joke
but it's raining a little too hard this time.

it was a perfectly good song,
the kind of words that resound in your head
long after the final note has been sung.
it was a perfectly good song until
i saw you in it,
saw you woven through each line and melody,
and then it was more than just a perfectly good song.
it was you.
every time i saw you, everytime you kissed me,
everytime our ivory skins touched
you were that song.
it was a perfectly good song
as it replaced wedding bells, as
we swayed through an open dance floor
surrounded only by those melodies
and our love.
that song was beaded all over my white gown,
tucked into your tuxedo jacket
instead of a boutineer.
it was a perfectly good song until you left,
until that song was the only thing i had left of your ghost,
until i threw up those lyrics on the side of the street
when i thought i glimpsed you in the crowds.
it was a perfectly good song until those words
were the only thing keeping me company at 2am, besides my own shadow,
of course.
it was a perfectly good song
until it wasn’t.

I do not pass in this world idly
for there is much to do.

I do not hold on to ideas or others or myself too steadfastly
for many things do change.

I do not take today for granted
for tragedy strikes without regard.

I do not choose my words lightly
for they shape the world.

As such, I do not take action without careful thought
for that is the mark of destruction.

Finally, I do not aim to judge another soul
for mine is the only I control.

I'm bitter lemons
I beg, drown me in sugar
Make me lemonade

The boxes
which keep my blood clean
are stacked as tall as I,
a monument
in the spare room
to past battles.
Too many words,
too many thoughts
******* in the
hand-to-hand combat
with mortality.

No more.

What life I have
will not be defined
by an indeterminate end.

I live to write poems;
I will no longer die in them.