I didn't want you,
I wanted love
and I have realised
that they are not the same thing.

You were a mould
that I poured my insecurities in,
a computer I tried to program.

But you are a sky,
stormy and clear and rainy and warm.

You were so blue when I longed for red.

I didn't want you.
I wanted the thought.

American dreamer.
Southern border divide,
holding me back.
A new hope,
I dream to seek.
An escape from the land I once knew,
A place that just isn't meant for me.

Strange views,
The mainland holds.
Keeping me from something new.
I promise I'm not here to take anything from you.
I understand laws.
I understand policies.
But I'll give you anything for a hand.

Strange views.
Your word doesn't match your action.
How terrible for my copper skin brothers and sisters.
Not a chance for them to live.
Not a change for them to believe in a new.
So take our land
and take our food.
Take our love
and our culture.
But leave us in cages left to rust.

Strange views
of babies in tears
and the smell of fear
coming from grieving mothers and fathers.
As their babies are now out of sight,
separated.
What a strange view to see.
Why does this seem so familiar to me?

Painfully beautiful
Enchantress unreal.
Flaunts her darkness, dutiful
All her frills of sin
All her laces of evil.

Mystifying, electrifying
Seethes like lightning
Lethal to touch
She’s scorching, Excruciating, blinding.

Red dresses with hems alight
Fire-laden wings aflight
Collect, sinners unite
Bow to her to live
Endure her to survive.

I know I'm ******* wrong
I'm the sickness in the poor man's bones.
Parasytical, I move in you
I drive your desire,
Feed you fire
Slip away when I'm overthrown.

Face your fears
In the mirror
You know you crave Death's chase.
Pupils black
Staring back
I can touch your face.

Fingertips cold,
Baby you're bold,
You don't flinch away.
I enter through a single sin
Slipping underneath your skin
Oh Darling,
I am here to stay.

On a Wednesday morning, clear and calm,
                     I went to Astor Place
and had a gypsy read my palm
                     or maybe just my face.

She said my heart was heavy
                     and my head was stuffed with lies.
But things like that weren't on my hand,
                     they hid behind my eyes.

The room is dull and dank and cold but at
least I have a hand to hold.