The ribbon of our lives
tied by our emotions.
Just like
interlaced fingers.
Eternal, just like
my emotions for you.
Unrequited affection.
Never satisfied.
Thirsty for more,
but never attainable.

Summertime texting.
Do you feel restless?
You realize you're alive...?

Let me look into your eyes.
Sweet abyss of colors.
Browns,
blues and greens.
Every color in between.
A Terra of the unknown.
For it is a planet of your soul.
If you let your lids
gently touch,
a shroud of night.
Beautiful abyss
that is your eyes.
Open lids so I may gaze
like a God from the heavens.
I soon forget that in those eyes,
you are alive;
and with a freight, I remember
you can look back
into mine.

If I wrote haikus,
A rose by any other name,
Thinks itself taller.

How to write poetry.
There is nothing worse than time.
Silently waiting until the day my father comes.
**** this I can't write poems for **** anymore.

If green is envy
My skin, become leaves and grass
Flowers bloom from my eyes

Summer leaves, like breath.
Exhale, like oxygen,
When the winter blooms.

There is nothing that
can counteract the balance.
..Wretched imagery..

Cold, like the spring breeze
I laugh that you can see it
My sullen smile

Your screams are
the most beautiful song
I've ever heard.
So scream your heart out
or until your larynx breaks.
Whichever comes first.

My heart may be ice,
but all of my tears I shed
are little embers.

One, two, three, four, five
digits that still twinge with life,
..poke it with a stick..

You are a crow.
With black wings
Dark onyx iris'
You arrive and go as you
Please...save me.

I hate you.
You grotesque thing.
No reason for living
except to **** a human being.
The length of my pinkie nail,
like needles and pins
grasping for the attention of my skin,
but to no avail.
Little thing with little life,
the beauty of red;
Death is your meaning of being,
your scarlet fountain of youth
is my strife.
Oh you grotesque butterfly
on four instead of two
give me your kiss;
violet and deep ocean.
You vampyre of humanity
your life is unfair
but so discerning.
I hate you.

Enigmatic sight,
Like wasps, the iris of skies,
Is your heart clever?

Its not my fault that
whenever I see
your face
I want to hold you close
and stab a knife
slowly
in your back.
*****.

The Raven
Little bird
that sits on my windowsill
those yellow eyes
piercing my soul.
Black feathers
disguised into the night.
I see you before I sleep,
able to tell my secrets to
since you cannot speak
except for a caw
that escapes
your
beak.
Little bird,
my best friend
your short life
will never end.
For I am with you now and forever
so stay by my windowsill

Upon the withered
there was a tree,
up high above.
Let me feel your love.

As I tie this rope,
an art. Around your body.
Where many have hung.

Let me feel your love
as i choke from up above.
Hung by my own feet.

This is what its called.
A slow death is my blessing.
Your love feels like bliss.