I dare not scratch the surface Plato itched,
For fear I'd break my fingers on the stone.
My faculties in circles whirl around,
Which metaphor Aristotle would bemoan.

My femininity is undenied
And thus my musings, when they first began,
Would be utterly rejected, undeniably rebuked,
By one featherless bipedal man.

The History that gulped Atlantis down
Into its sunken depths, has made a grave
For all free thinkers, locked by secret PINs.
Philosophy, no more, these souls can save.

I carry naught but spades in both my hands,
Seeking to unearth artful thought's tomb.
Labor-sweat pours down, yet I am left to merely mourn
The heartbeat ne'er since heard from Athen's womb.

While out on a walk with a seer,
The maid froze while on the first mile.
"This is not a good place to remember,"
She said with a nervous smile.
~
A fearsome crack
A cry of wrath
A bright red droplet on the path
~
"This is not a safe place to be stepping,"
The maid said, with a frightened glance.
"We had better run home and regroup, friend;
We shouldn't leave this to chance."
~
A cheshire grin
A shatt'ring cry
A nightmare socket with a bloodshot eye
~
"Now, now, dear seer!" I told her.
"Calm yourself, you seem so distressed!
Retreating would be a failure indeed,
To press onward would surely be best."
~
A vicious slice
A gushing flood
A vital veinage, sweet lifeblood
~
I quelled her fears and she followed,
Despite her persistent doubt.
"Honestly," I softly muttered
"There's nothing to be frightened about."
~
A lifeless maid
A slackjawed bride
A headless creature with arms splayed wide
~
We travelled deeper and deeper
Through the path into the dark wood
We travelled so far,  that if we were to shout
No creature would come if they could.
~
A loneliness
A fading light
A blackness like the dead of night
~
Here we stopped. "I need a rest,"
I said to her. She acquiesced.
She turned around. Such woe betide.
And so that foolish seer died.
With all her gifts
She could not see
That I was her true enemy.
My knife did slash.
And she did wail.
I grinned a grin.
I watched her flail.
I watched her fall
Down to the ground.
She made a scream,
Melodious sound!
My work was done.
Her head was gone.
In mine her song
Sung on and on.
I turned and left
That empty glade,
Where no one was
Except the maid.

Two hearts bound,
Twining round
A thorny vine.
It's yours and mine.

Two hearts bleed.
My guilt, your greed.
You took away
My yesterday.

Two hearts kiss.
You longed for this.
I stood my ground.
Now we are bound.

I wanna give up and take my final bow;
I guess I just can't handle that
The only reason I'm alive right now
Is this cat.

A simple rhyme
A waste of time
An old cliché:
A sunny day.

And then White Winter fell,

The haunting breath of fall to quell.

The light’s last gleam, so soft and bright,

Was shattered on that frigid night.

She prayed that it might be alright,

But then white winter fell.

I wrote on my arms
And thighs
And neck
And stomach
And chest
And legs
Until the whole of me was covered in my feelings.
I could not speak a word
And so I wrote them.

Now I write on paper
Online
On the canvas
On my nails
On the computer
On books
Until the whole of my life is reflecting my feelings.
I cannot speak a word
And so I write them.