We are human
We fight for freedom.
Gender equality,
Peace between the races
And for the end of all wars.

Yet, we have sold ourselves
To mental slavery.
Concocting an idea of beauty
That evolves
Each time we get close enough to grasp it.

We consume morsels
And curl our frail bodies over the toilet bowl
Stare into the mirror, and
Smile.
For between our thighs
we have carved, a gap.

We paint our faces
and hide the artwork that lies beneath.
We are enslaved by ourselves
And in turn we enslave society.

But, we are human,
We fight for freedom,
Gender equality,
Peace between the races
And the end of all wars.

But we neglect the wars going on inside us.

We’ve always
learned in school
that if you were found
to have written
something that
someone else wrote
(even unintentionally)
you would be
reprimanded.
But even then
I've always wondered;
out of the billions
how could I
possibly
be so unique?

Now, I think my pale
skin and boney body
might be misleading.
When I say 'feel me'
I don't mean caress me
with the hairs on your
knuckles, afraid
your fist might break
my brittle bones.

Now, when I say feel me,
I mean leave imprints of
your nails and handprints
all over my body.
Mark me up like a little kid
tears up mud
trying to make art.
Get messy and tangle my hair.
Pick me up, and throw me on the bed.
Make me fear gravity and
laugh as I land hard, your
body lands harder on top of me.

Don't massage my back,
rather arch it and snap
my neck back
as you pull my hair harder
than any horse rein.
Shove my face into the pillows
trying to make me be quiet.
Smack me so hard you leave
fingerprints claiming me yours.
Put me on counters anywhere,
sinks in abandoned bathrooms.
Take me to concerts and have
me compete in the back with the
screaming fans.

Give me carpet burn in every place
possible, more bruises than I can count.
Rip my clothes, trust me, I didn't
spend much on them.
Worship each part of my body
and make it yours.
Have me do the same
and make
me
yours.

I may be small.
But there is a fire in my chest.
I don't think you've
tested the heat yet.
Just...
I hope you brought burn cream.

Don't try to kiss
my lips, call me your
fairy tale princess.
I know you saw me kiss her
as I twirled my fingers
through her purple hair.
You saw my drunk *** try to
walk and her catch me before
I tumbled down the stairs.

Don't say that I love you,
and if I don't,
you'll **** me until I do.
I'm sorry to burst your
bubble, but I don't sing in
the morning as birds get me dressed.
I don't write pretty love
poems.
I write about the images
of flesh melting off
of skulls. The skin ripping
away from the cheek bones
quicker than I ripped my
wrist out of your grasp.
Do not try to kiss
me as I wake up, saying
that if I didn't want you, why
would I share a bed with you.
If you don't recall,
I was awake all night
on the other side.
Thinking about someone
I like to call Lucifer
before he made his fall.

There are not secrets
in my collar bones,
love in the crook of my
arms.
There are bruises in place
instead. I became Raggedy Ann
as he picked me up by the
arm and slammed me down again.
Concussions, cuts, bruises on
even my ***. I tried to fight back.
His hands around my throat
yelling that I wasn't strong enough
to take him. Pushing with the
only muscle I have somehow I kicked
him in the face.
Oh god he was ******* me up then.

But when mom came home, he never touched me.
Then the drunkard screamed about my
weakness, he practically threw me
in the air like a baker
and his pizza crust.
I was just food
to his animal eyes, he swatted
my hand away like a fly.
He did't heed my warning
so when he pushed me again,
trust me. I socked the *******
in the face.
I left shaking and he left
clutching his jaw, lip
already ******.

I still limp, with my fading blue hair.
My bruises like eggs on Easter,
I just keep finding them.
Do not kiss my bruised knuckles
thinking I will wake up
out of my anger.
Try kissing my swollen hand.
Where I caught myself from being
pushed down.
Maybe then I will look at you like
a normal human being
instead of you taking me as your god.
I am nothing of the sort.
I am a stubborn lying *****.
I got right back up.
He kept pushing me and I
kept rocking him.
Do not take me as a warrior.
Do not take me as a princess wrongly
treated.

I weigh 100 pounds,
trust me I flew through that air.
My first fist fight anything but
fair.
But at least this skinny *****
got a few hits in.

We wished that 2 am
could last forever.
Where we can walk
barefoot to get coffee,
and you spoke to me
in the only language
you thought I understood.

Your words spilled
out of your mouth
in the form of
poetry.
Metaphors saying
that you could be my
******.

We were lost in a different
universe where I didn't know
where I was
but I knew where your
lips were.
But then again we were also
high on acid, and
various other
illegal substances.

But the substance hidden
in your saliva got me
higher than any strain
of marijuana could.

When he tells me that
you lie about everything
and live to get ******
up, I tell him I know.
You live to **** with my
head and you whisper lies
as many times as you whisper
you want me.

He asks why I enjoy
your company.
I can't let him know
that it's because some
part of my brain
thinks that the dimension
of us happening ever again
will slip back open
and we can slide back into
each other.

You are a lie more intricate
than the northern lights.
But there are flaws and
ridges so deep
in you, I could
call you the
grand canyon.
Because you told me once
that you had lung
cancer.
I said that the
tumors had
expanded and popped.
and it explains
why they suddenly
disappeared
and a new disorder
formed
in your spine.
You blew out smoke
much longer than
you blew intoxicating
promises into my ear.
Said you had MPD
and I was the opposite
of your medicine.
Said every word you
spoke took
a pebble out of
of the hole inside you.

I told you that I lived
in fantasies in my head
and you said I dropped
an atomic bomb inside you.
That I was the bane of your
existence and when you got hung
up on what addictions do to you,
I whispered that they destroy everything.
You stopped in the street and
stared at me.

Then it was the kind
of coffee I got.
I got vanilla cupcake
and you teased me on how
I want what's normal.
How I am liquid and I
fit to whatever container
I am put in.
But baby you see, when you
asked for an explanation
you didn't want the one I had.
I went to tell you that
my mind isn't stable
and I'm never in one place,
so when I kiss you,
it's hidden in a garden
in my mind and I'm not sure
it really happened.

Yesterday you apologized.
Said I don't really love
him and you don't love your
partner.
I kissed you with my thumb
in the way,
and I swore if I could
of just moved it
the world would shift upside
down and I would
be tripping with you
at 2 am again.

When we sat on my porch,
as the sun came up,
you said you wish it could of
lasted forever.
But the thing with forever
is I can't do commitment.

Maybe it's best that 2 am
is just another dimension
where people walk around bare
foot
blowing clouds of lust
into each others mouths
poetry falling off my fingers
like a hang nail,
hurts just a bit
to get that deep in my words
that they don't even flow right.

Maybe it's best that we only
exist where we float in our
personality disorders.
We are more than one person,
souls caught in our head
fighting to take control,
seeing a weakness and lunging,
and you are my weakness.
Explains why when I'm with
you I forget that he exists,
while when I'm in my head
he is my everything.
You...
You said I've never been addicted
to you, and if I gave you the
chance my life would change.
But darling I had one
taste and I'm hooked.

From the first night that
we got so high
hair was pulled and mouths
were stuffed
I was... I was stuck.
And I have been stuck on you
ever since.
We exist in a universe
that only the dark allows.
No eyes to pry.

2 am is where
we aren't in a relationship.
2 am is where I
can kiss you
and you pull me away
saying that won't
stop your question of
why I do it?
What do I feel?

What I feel is 2 am
tugging at my knees
pulling me down,
begging it not to become 6 am.
Because I'm addicted to you.
I am addicted to the night
where the streets are empty
and we can lay on gravel
and stare at the lights.
I told you before.

Addictions destroy you.

Kiss me where it hurts,
taste the indefinite, there
is something beautiful
in the moments that will
fade without warning.

I've been missing the part
of you that craves only me,
I'm a finely wrapped gift on
your door  — unravel me,
unravel me, I'll buy you more.

You desire the mystery,
feeding the elusive hand
that beckons you — there
are layers to my story but
you only skim the surface.

My ego is a divine thing,
you dress it well, embellish
it with swift strokes, and
pause with fascination.

There are a million ways
to tell me I look good in red
— but I like your way best.