Sometimes...
I talk to the moon
And tell it all the things that I can't say to him...

Why do I attract the same kind of men ?
Men that’s emotionally unavailable ?
Men that’s after something ?
Men that look down on me
Why are men using me ?
Why are men unkind to me ?
Why am I not good enough ?

Why am I unkind to myself to allow this ?
Why do I think I’m not good enough to go for a different kind of man ?
Why am I using myself to feel good for a moment and not a life time?
I’m so sorry self
I have been unkind to you

Oh, infinitely beautiful girl
you are not alone

she wrote with
scarlet lipstick on her mirror

But words alone
don't
change hearts

and she was infinitely
unhappy

cursed

doomed

All the boys and men
said yes
to her

but her brother still
said no

She could say it if
she wanted
to but
the words would
carry no
weight behind them

like a cat shaking
the paw with
you
and not understanding
the real meaning
behind
the gesture

so was her
every
“I love you.”

Enough to make an
old boy cry
but he
preferred suicide

Needless to say
her response
was
“Meh.”

love
has no mouth
but speaks for its self.

Her hands looks so very old
Veins protruded like sandhills on a desert.
Her dry cracked skin resembled parched clay.
Fingers with nails that barely covered their tips
Dangled from those very hands.
It was obvious this poor soul had lived a harsh and stressful life.

They say the eyes are the windows to the soul.
I think the Hands are the Map to get there.

My love is in a light attire
Among the apple-trees,
Where the gay winds do most desire
To run in companies.

There, where the gay winds stay to woo
The young leaves as they pass,
My love goes slowly, bending to
Her shadow on the grass;

And where the sky's a pale blue cup
Over the laughing land,
My love goes lightly, holding up
Her dress with dainty hand.