People speak of the exciting moments,
The ones in which we feel alive or troubled
Exotic adventures
Love;
Lust
Each story, either tragic or remarkable,
Extends across boarders.  

Immense joy and overbearing pain continues to trump serenity
As we seldom speak of those moments in which we feel useless
When the world seems to be spinning around us,
Our bodies senseless to it's movement.
Unfortunately,
These are the moments that make us human
The moments in which we are the most connected,
Yet our need to feel either happy or sad denies it's significance
And once again we find ourselves alone,
Alone in this life of neglected unity.

My nails are painted as black as the midnight sky,
My hair, cut short---bleached
I sit comfortably on my hardened mattress
The words on the page begin to look the same
Red, red, red
The blood drips slowly from my fingertips.

I would like to say that I feel lonely in this place,
That I feel misery has finally found it's company
Yet I find that even alone,
I am suffocating
These walls are slowly closing in on me,
And I can't find a reason to stop them.

****--
It constitutes a plethora of emotions
Whether it be by virtue of relativism,
Or basic humanism
We all feel something towards the word ****.

Though when the TV flashes wildly with a new case,
A white male's innocent face plastered across the media
Any previous notion of humanity is tainted--
Doubt and confusion, its captor.
But he's a respectable man--
A scholar,
A Stanford swimmer?
"He is not a ******"

So we find ourselves back here,
Staring lucidly at the word "****"
Feeling those same shuddering feelings,
Yet still searching for a better explanation.

The filthy peasant approaches me;
The one in which I had hoped to see
A love declaration;
A serious consideration
Eternal popularity is all I may say
Eternal popularity;
The price I must pay

How sad,
When goodbyes release the pressure
And sudden loneliness helps you breathe again.

He lies,
Peacefully wrapped around my frozen skin
Grumbling as he steals the sheets,
Simultaneously dragging my heart along with them.
His lips press against my own
I feel happy,
Wanted, even.
Though I know deep down that this warmth--
From his alluring touch,
From this beautiful bed,
It won't keep me from running.
... nothing can keep me from running.

The world is burning
Yellow, red... black
I hear your screams for validation
Yet, I lay here, immobile

The flame resides at the foot of my bed
Intensity, pain... beauty
I burn within her core
For this fire is my creation,
And I must die loving her.