papa remember when you used to spin stories out of gold thread
the thread that came from your teeth
it wove me a blanket so i could fall soundly asleep
papa remember when late on a summer night
we danced to music that was alive and wafted in the warm breeze like night blooming jasmine
sweet, and crawling up your nose and infecting your head
papa remember when you said you’d call
that was last year
and that same song came back on and I was surprised to find tears sneaking up
on me
burning canals into my cheeks
because you told me goodnight
and never said good morning again
because you left in my god ******
sleep

it is a dangerous thing to do
to still in silence
alone with nothing but thoughts
and feelings
belonging only
to me.
how risky it is
to cut the world away
snap the string connecting everything
to draw the curtain down
left with my shadow
a
poisonous
companion
giving life
to sorrow
an unwise
circumstance
to be with me and me
and just me--
and suicide,
she purrs
along the window's rim
peeping in
at me and me and
lonesome me

She doesn't know why
She's the sort of person
Who converse with inanimate objects.
She can't (help) but call for the razor
Whenever she's in deep confusion.

She's not the sort of person
Who is able to use verbiages at her fingertips.
The tune her fingers play
Doesn't portray
Phantoms in (her) head.

(She)'s the sort of person
Who loves coffee and the morning sun.
But she's also the sort of person
Who hates her own existence
And find that she's no good for life.

She's the sort of person
Who doesn't believe that people care
For everyone who said that
either left
Or (wants to leave).

(She) didn't meant to be annoying
Nor did she wanted to be so disgusting.
She hated putting that cold metal
Against her skin which was warm with life.
She hated sticking *******
Down her only throat.
She merely (need)ed something
To take the pain away.
Her only wish was (salvation);
She's been held captive by her mind.

(C.C)