Petals fly up high
Wilting with ginormous life
Pink falls meticulously
Brushing the dewy ground
Fresh tears warmed by
the everlasting sunlight
Giving a breath of fresh air
in hopes of regaining
movement and emotion
Spring has a beautiful ring
and a underlying allergic thing

It blooms with sadness
it grows in the wallowing night
calling out with frivolous colors
making me shiver all over again

Faces painted all around
but they made no sound
Seeking glass eyes found;
Open book kept bound

I carry this speaker
hoping their voices will be heard
more precise and cleaner
booming loudly word for word
--deafening those nearby

Moving those emotionally
and
a bit rationally
sharing hearse and raw
opening the eyes
to those who never saw

I hope to share a different point of view
without the judgmental whips
that sting like a tattoo
only offering their own remarks and tips
none of it spits any true

For whoever is free
please,
vouch for my plea
this volume has a limit
only brave hearts outstretch it
--don't become a cynic

Mark these words well
for it's hard to be repeated
moreover, speak and tell
do not perceive this as conceited
or
all our lives are broaching a newfound hell

It keeps blinding me                                
  not the pain                                                      
    no­t the jealousy                                                  
      not the shame
        not the depression

                               It's the Love.

So bright it burns
No longer a fleeting feeling
Just a passionate sizzle
As it protests against my skin
Adding a different kind of hue
Described as feminine colors
Some men hate it so

Twinkling with a glare,
  not the face
    not the torso
      not the hands
        not the legs

                               It's the Eyes.

Dark as day swallowing the light
Greedy for more color
In wait, it becomes a game
It glares with determination
Reflecting its true desires
Blissfully unaware of another's intent
In hope it finds purchase of more value

Beating down with persistence,
  not the brain
    not the stomach
      not the lungs
        not the intestines

                             It's the Heart.

True inner beauty
is what captures the most
Relative to time and space
It may grow weary with years
Though it will never distinguish its heat
Pulsing vibrantly every single second
Divulging upon raw emotion and vision

Flakes peck my lips;
becoming more numb
with every brush and flutter

Who needs love,
when I have food
nothing can compare
to this full feeling
love cannot make me
feel whole repeatedly
compared to a substance
that only replenishes
it does not judge you nor
have feelings about it being
used in such a way.

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

Wind brushes my hair
combing through with its cool fingers
tugging with airy emotion
twisting into knots
pecking my cheeks swiftly
clear blue eyes tear up
making me feel chilled
and a little less lonely

I rather be a single, petite daisy,
compared to a bouquet of thorny,
seductive dripped red roses
who get all the bees attention
while I get a beautiful, delicate butterfly

Mysterious person in my dream
your appearance is quite extreme

You feel like a dark, wretched theme
its enough to make me wanna scream

You pick me up with your fingers
A hungry, dominant stare lingers
Pulling my limbs apart
Your mouth reeks with 'Sweetheart.'

In this lifeless state of wonder
Glazed by societal views, dragging me under
Clasped tight with no escape
Wanting to scream, '****!'

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

A reminder that is given
white petals drift slowly
turning brown and shriveled
like your empty promises
drowning in the water
being consumed
by the chemical bonds
that feed your lies
forever pricking your fingers
with the thorns you place
on my body, stabbing myself too

I wish this candle burned
like our passionate love
the flame and the scent
a combination of us

Flickering in the darkness
to remind us of our
ups and downs in life
the flowers in front
of our house, the everlasting
presence imprinted

No other candle could be
a better representation

Every thing,
Every single one
Is repeated
No originality
In a world of fragility

I could have stopped him,
but I knew he would die
So I left,
Leaving behind the ashes
of flaking memories and
emotions of my friend
Never truly understanding,
why the will to die was so strong

And I'm here, here
Lost in self conflicting thoughts
Here,
Like you wanted me to be
Though your fears have gone
They became a part of me too

You forgot them
but you left them with me
Here,
in my quivering heart
I will keep them out of love
but they grasp me painfully

Here, here with me.

Are you human?
Yes.
then why do you not care?
for another

Sometimes I pretend
to be what I am not

that I have an imaginary friend
who's trust doesn't need to be bought

this pointless bond has a bitter end
And everything I did will be for naught

Nothing dries faster,
then black ink filled
with regretful words

Wisping, wallowing, Heart,
he might have said
the most important words
in life's complex language
but his actions speak more,
as he walks away once again.

You call me a Monster,
or Are you inflicting
your own thoughts?

A little lost person
felt so small in a world
that oh, so big
but nothing could compare
to their thoughts and dreams

They liked what it thought;
their dreams were unbelievable
yet when someone asks them
What do you like?
They draw a blankness reply

For what they liked,
felt impossible to do
the future seems to clog
the wheels stop spinning
they question themselves endlessly

Only sounds of complicated feelings
come from the tone of our voice
in complex patterns of uncertainty
it may sound beautiful, but all it does
is vocalize our practiced perfectionism

There are lovelier sounds
in sync with a beat so strong
sometimes it can be heard
all it depends on is the person
and heart's tethered bond
then they shall get along

Here lies what they call,
A Little Love Song.

Silence filled the icy storm
that brewed within me
thrashing with persistence
memories drip like melting
icicles that hang off
my bleak, chattering heart

Pale-blue doesn't
compliment you
I prefer the pink
blush that stains your cheeks
whenever I muttered,
'I love you'

In this moment,
you are still so beautiful
a replica of Snow White
lying still in her glass casket,
but it seems true love's kiss
really was a portentous tale