She licked her cigarettes
with lips rubbed red from
too much loving
charcoal eyes were lit on fire
and the ashes fell back to the ground
mixed in the offspring of
erosion
lost in the ****
A soul turned to nothing
but she became

*free.

And your father still reminds me
Of my own
I ask you to analyze my dreams
I am either anxious about everything
Or being reborn
(But maybe those two things are the same)
You sat there in the cool morning gray sky for 1440 days
So high above everyone
Even higher than yourself
Wanting to be on the ground
With everyone else
Men are dreadful
Women are dreadful

*And all I ever wanted to be was
With you

Let the salt seep sting
Ms.mahogany eyes
and it's a godsend
recoil in position
stuck down in-between the cracks

*and she's never coming back.

Wind whips through my hair
Sending it like a cat of nine tails
Across my face

I smile on

A foam of gray spreads its wings above me
So different from the blue of yesterday

Bleak brown figures reach
Their bare arms towards me
Begging for the coverings they have shed

I glance down, and rise up
A shiny black surface smiles at me
How odd that the chariots that ride it
Are so rusty
And unadorned
Unlike the solid ground
I once rode on
Gray and ugly, but ridden by shiny, beautiful things
Almost as if to say that the most beautiful
Things are found at the lowest point

Sky above me
Trees around me
Ground beneath me
Blood inside

Take me to a summer where
Glory will in my eyes shine

Sad boys write the best poetry
an enticing insignificance
(I'll leave you)
To wither
and to rot
to love
to not
to call yourself a *******
unworthy and abhorrent

You only send letters to save yourself
50 cent postage stamp
and I'll send back
75 cent cherry red lipstick

It's all I can offer

(The worst part
is I do not evoke any emotion
at all)

I am unworthy
I am sick dying
Dead

A hollow log was once a tree
Tall and beautiful
Fruits and flowers in spring
Deep luscious vermilion in summer
Red and brown and yellow golden sunlight fall
Sparkling pure clean snow in winter
Whether it was just natural to die
Or some coincidence
I do not know
But the tree had fallen
No longer
flower or vermilion or sunlight or pure
Only empty
Nihilist
Decomposition
Moisture creates fungi and bacteria within
bugs and maggots and worms
They feed
On the corpse of loveliness
Until the nothingness is nothing