1,2,3
One after the other they spread
The possible names filling my head
Unmarked graves from after the war
The possibilities making my heart soar
4,5,6
How many people are buried you think?
The ground unfoot so soft that you sink
Piles of dirt, dying grass, and elm trees
Filled with soldiers who've traveled across the seas
7,8,9
The clouds cover the sky over head
My feet start to drag, heavy as lead
I march on forward as the clouds grow darker
Not a single grave has a marker
10,11,12
A figure looms in the distance
I pick up the pace and match his stance
"It's time?" I asked
The figure nodded, The grimreaper unmasked
13,14,15*
A new unmarked grave is found
They don't dare disturb the ground
My body lies inside, killed by the hand of death
I guess that's what happens when a guy plays with meath
*16,17,18...

I am a poetry site addict.
I get on a site, and I just
Don't know when
To stop writing.
I'm not kidding.
I'm serious.

I'm also a people pleaser.
I want people to like me.
So I overwhelm them
And try too hard.

I love to bless people and
Make them feel good
About themselves.
But it can get to be
Too much of a
Good thing.

I have a thyroid condition
And slight bi polar mania
At times. I'm medicated,
Which helps. But I can't
Sleep when the writing
Bug hits.

You may be saying to
Yourselves, what?!
That's great for a
Writer! But it really
Isn't. Cause I alienate
People. I really would
Rather read and
Leave the writing
Alone for a while.

Please forgive me.
I'm truly not trying to
Overwhelm. I just love to
Write so much.

Thanks for understanding,
And for all your inspiration.
All my comments, etc
ARE SINCERE!!!


Soul :)

light a candle in the wind
if you dare to take chance
and waltz on the moon
for our very last dance
my prince of the sunrise
my lovely dark knight
you shine brighter than heaven
oh, love what a sight!
your breath on my neck
is a passion of gold
your grasp on my heart
reaches down to my soul
our lives remain questioned
our future is blind
so enclose the tips of your fingers
so deeply in mine
when I look into your eyes
i know i am home
when you speak tongues of life
i know i'm never alone

i'll lay down my life
as your lips kiss my brow
the fire you create
please don't put it out now
this is not a replacement
nor a humble goodbye
but rather preparation
for the difficult times
though we shall not bear witness
to the back of our minds
let us just keep on dancing
until our bodies decline

for even in death,
your heart will always be mine.

I play with fire

Feeling blades
Their weight
Their sharpness

I play with fire

Looking at food
Taking it in
Forcing it out

I play with fire

Taking off lids
Just to smell
To forget

I play with fire

Giving myself
Tarnished my image
No longer pure

I play with fire

Standing on cliffs
One step forward
Two steps...

I've played with fire...

I refuse to delight in the things that bring me so much pain.
Though it seems to be the only consistency in this constant running scheme.
I go & it come.
I come & it stays.
You haunt my only made up fantasy of ecstasy.
If I can't delight in you, you refuse to delight in anything.
I'm so tired of you.

Something must make you happy;
something must make you sad.
Humans cannot simply be.
Events construct emotions.
Right?
Something must be wrong with her-
An extra something, making her disturbed.
Removing that will fix her, yes?
An extra foot of hair- watch it fall from silver sheers;
an extra twenty pounds- watch as each disappears;
an extra pint of blood- feel it evaporate with old fears.
With everything wrong now gone there is no sorrow.

Sadness is not replaced with joy,
it's not replaced at all.
The hollow void must be filled somehow.
Something must be wrong with her-
A missing something, making her incomplete.
Adding that will fix her up, yes?
One more earring- a small silver pin;
One more scar- a memory on her skin;
One more boy- feel him feel her in sin.

Addition and subtraction won't make a person whole,
but it's too late now for her to walk away.
She's started a complex equation
and will never see the solution defined.

I want to go back
to the days when
I could show up
at your doorstep
and we'd mess
around a little
because I need a
distraction from
the chemicals
   in my bag and
the blade
   in my hand

Little bells
Only time tells
Listen as they ring
Promise not to sing

Music starts slow
But picks up fast- let's go
Bass high
Don't look me in the eye

Fill a pipe
Up the hype
Inhale green
What you've seen

Unzip my jeans
Don't care what it all means
Backseat of my car
No such thing as too far

*Don't talk to me; I don't care who you are.