Honesty; A Funny Thing
everyone says it's what they want
but what they need is a reflection
of their own thoughts

i have been honest
i say what i feel \ feel what i say
keep giving chunks of this heart away
pieces of me strung all over the place

and the poet and the writer
who've camped in my chest
the aristist i married
wrecking ***** & trainwrecks

all one-in-the-same
they each dug inside
...some with spoons//
...some with knives

Don't question me about my thoughts
Read my poems to know who they haunt
Check my past to see what I want

If only...
you were a.  p
                            o
                            e­
                            m

I could e.  r.  a. s. e.

[                 ]
[                 ]

each line...

...I could

ecapskc a b

every.  ...   l e t t e r

1.
at.
a.
time.

If only...you were

A ~ s°     n°
            O.      G.~~~

I could hit

               S }>k}>i}>p}>

I could p.r.e.s.s.

_mute

...l o v e...

comes¡so¡quickly¡

《yet》

..... FORGET///ing

takes

so  -  d/a/m/n/e/d/

loooooooooooooooonnnnnnnngggggggg

you dream of wings
and cruel deposed kings.

your eyes have left
having witnessed so much theft.

you may waste away
and so i beg you to stay

but you are lost
within a castle's frost

your thoughts have turned bitter
and your dreams now flitter

the light returns
but the coldness burns

and i ask you
to live
for me.

I wrote a perfect poem once. I scribbled it down on the back of a half used napkin. It wasn't short and is wasn't long. The lipstick laced food marks couldn't taint what was already perfect. There was no love and no sadness in the words. It embodied only emptiness - it's most pure form. Nothing left wanting, no thirst unquenched.

In a moment of clear sight, I knew only the right words were forming. In that moment the half empty bar around me sunk, drowned, imploded and combusted - for all I cared. I had just written a masterpiece.