She was allergic
To pollen, but she jumped in
Flowers anyways.

She was terrified
Of thunderstorms, yet she was
A storm of her own.

She said she didn't
Know how to love, yet she loved
Him to perfection.

I have loved you
Longer than I expected

Harder
Than I wanted

And more beautifully
Than I could imagine

If only she knew how much I cared
Perhaps then she wouldn't act so scared
'I love you baby' I say time after time
Her twisted heart brought me to this crime

The love of my life begins to shout
"Leave me the hell alone, just get out!"
She's too loud, neighbors begin to worry
They recognize me, they start to scurry

"Put the knife down, quit messing around ***."
Peeking through the window are police from town
Our safe haven became a fish bowl
SWAT burst in to finish off my toil

One two three quick shots to the chest
Bleeding profusely from my breast
But before my premature final present
A smile from her, brings utter resentment

i was wild once
i ran with wolves
and lived off the land
who was my mother
i ate the wind
and drank the rain
the sun warmed my skin
while the dark taught me fear
by the moon and stars
i found my way
and by the cycles of seasons
i knew my place in the world
unfettered and unbound
i was free as any bird
unconquered and unexplored
untamed by any man

The one who cannot
Respect you
Can never Love you.

Sinking,
       the drifting ceiling of blue and grey light
illuminating the ride.

Suffocating,
       grasping for something, anything,

A light in the dark,
       the eternal fading,
the last residuals of the cold falling away,

And then the transitory returns.
       The golden sun, wind kissed waves,
and a weather beaten hand catching yours,
       a call, joyful, echoed the gull high above,
as safety brings the glow of liberty.

I watched a man drown in sorrow as I held his life jacket
All I needed was some courage and I still don’t have it
My will to speak is far too weak
Yet my anger is at it’s peak

So I will shout and I will cry
Yelling at God for not letting me die
Back when I was in my spry
For I am old now with no reason why

My once prideful wisdom fleets and words go missing
The pistol on the coffee table keeps insisting
That maybe it’s finally time to stop resisting
And be born again to search for who I’ve been missing