She said, "I can't swim"
With a voice so confident
The ocean believes
They're still best friends.

1713

As subtle as tomorrow
That never came,
A warrant, a conviction,
Yet but a name.

WHERE, where but here have pride and Truth,
That long to give themselves for wage,
To shake their wicked sides at youth
Restraining reckless middle-age?

My parents tell me to stop bringing misfits home.

Stray cats, lost dogs, lonely people.

Anything sad in the neighborhood, sad in my sight, I bring home with me.

The poor teenagers up the hill, the stoners dazed by the lake, the girls with broken souls and the boys with broken minds. Survivors of all kinds of abuse find refuge with me.

I carried an orange cat home one day, I found him walking around a construction site. He was fed and given something to drink, and we found his owner.

A puppy only a few weeks old, eyes still closed, deathly ill. We bottle fed it and took it to the vet, but it was too late. She said she had a damaged spine and wouldn't make it. I stroked her head as she stopped breathing.

I brought a schizophrenic boy home and helped him through an attack in our living room, while my parents sat horrified in the kitchen.

No less than three girls have cried on my shoulder in the safety of my bedroom, traumatized by rapes they didn't know how to talk about.

These strays, these wounded souls....These are my people. I love them all.

So when they say "stop bringing such damaged things home" it breaks my heart.

And I do it anyways.

She whispered to me "Be good to me and I will be bad for you"
i smiled at her
generously it seemed
She blindfolded me
With scarf she has been wearing
She had her **** neck in my lips
I could feel it
The motion slowly increased
My hands were now tied
with the shirt she wore that night
She sat on me
giving me a little tease
Un buttoning the remaining
She had my mouth shut
I accepted her order
I felt dominated but
she was doing it better
I,on the other hand
Learning to catch her
That pace, that trick
She used on me to lure
How did she got it all, I wonder
every little joy she tenders
She was my first
I tried my best to hold her
I failed, she giggled
I could not see anything except for darkness
& her soul that loved me at very best
Every time she holds that thing of mine
I forgot every single dime, I paid her to be mine

Bring it on
I'm ready to
Burn again
As you hold
The dripping wax
Closer
I'm debating
The pattern
I want burned
Onto my skin
Melted
Melt me
We're all melting
And he left my side
So what have I to lose
Pour the wax down
My throat
Maybe it will
Keep me together
Like he used to

all your cigarettes
there's smoke in your soul
i swear you're asking for death
(more than the rest of us)
I have words inked in my bloodstream
you have them inked on your skin
you're WALKING ART babe but
art doesn't die

You held my hand,
You gave me hope,
You said I'll never be alone.

You called me yours,
I called you mine.
Throughout time,
It became a lie.

She popped up,
Like a jack-in-the-box.
She took your hand,
She showed you her ways,
You left me for her.
Today was the day

I cried,
My eyes turned red,
I no longer can cry,
I feel dead.

You said forever,
I said it too,
But baby,
You knew the truth.

I fell in love,
I gave it my all.
But in the end,
I was always alone.

and my neck is still
full of your kisses,
those which you left
so carelessly
last [wednesday] night.
you just have to see
how the fight between
my naive heart and my
confused mind
went all along
the unending night,
just thinking about
the way you are:
so lovely
i could possibly drown
in your eyes.