to love yourself is an art-
so i let nameless men sketch
their fantasies along my hips
to prove that i am too,
                                                a masterpiece.

**** in an antique wooden frame
that hangs by my throat
gagging on the subject of
                                                 love.

no where
no place
no light


it's inescapable
feet stapled, cold

fleeting breathe
stale air, dry


no ailment
no time
no life


darkest color of night
dancing dots

left with a sticky taste
a rumble of pleas

Footprints in the sand
led me back to where I stand
the sun slaps me with a glare
a convincing circular dare

Shell beneath my feet
looking all innocent and sweet
the foamy wave
fills my hollow cave

Glitter sprinkled on the ground
birds overcast with a distant gnawing sound
her eyes were a clearer than the blue
Dear Daughter, you shame the view

Words hurt they say,
but the feeling of them being etched
is akin to new found pain
a pen would be easier,
staining my skin, in-erasable
the pencil is more dull
perhaps then will I finally feel smart
it feels like an unwanted tattoo.