I'm not just 'fine'
I'm fine and.....

I'm fine
As in I'm alive
The 'and' is for everything else

I'm fine and...
Sad

Fine and...
Lonely

Fine and...
Scared

Fine and...
Worried

Fine and...
Stressed

Fine and...
Dying

As you can see,
That silent 'and' in
"I'm fine and..."
Is very important

All these knives in my back
         They don't even hurt anymore
   I mean, I'm sore
                 And it's intense
      But it doesn't make any sense
I must be at war
         With myself
      Tearing apart the insides of my brain
Have I gone insane?
           Why do I
Keep letting these things
              Happen to me?
       Is there a sign taped to my back
  Saying "Torture ME"?
            "Take Advantage Of ME"?
        "Love Me And Leave ME"?
    What's wrong with me?
            All this backstabbing
        Take this pen
And drag the ink into my spine
   Use the blood drops as a tattoo design
           The scars from all the knives
     Will just make it look more divine
Maybe some Angel wings
           With a sash torn apart
      and "Nobody Loves ME"
Written across the heart
            Might as well throw it all away
       Throw it all out the door
    I'm sore
          But all these knives in my back
     Don't even hurt anymore

should i trust you with
my naked soul
can i take of
my mask
so you can see my real face
will you treat me the same
as you do right now
or will you leave me
because it hurts to look


without the cover up
without the fake
where my eyes turn from stars to lake
are you brave enough to look
or will you turn away disgusted and pitiful
because the sight has been shook
the girl you know
not who you think

everyone i've written about
has left me.
so you must understand
why i will not immortalize you
with my words,
why i won't turn you
into a poem.

maybe this way
you'll stay.

the mind is its own beautiful prisoner.
Mind looked long at the sticky moon
opening in dusk her new wings

then decently hanged himself,one afternoon.

The last thing he saw was you
naked amid unnaked things,

your flesh,a succinct wandlike animal,
a little strolling with the futile purr
of blood;your *** squeaked like a billiard-cue
chalking itself,as not to make an error,
with twists spontaneously methodical.
He suddenly tasted worms windows and roses

he laughed,and closed his eyes as a girl closes
her left hand upon a mirror.

let’s live suddenly without thinking

under honest trees,
                        a stream
does.the brain of cleverly-crinkling
-water pursues the angry dream
of the shore. By midnight,
                                a moon
scratches the skin of the organised hills

an edged nothing begins to prune

let’s live like the light that kills
and let’s as silence,
                            because Whirl’s after all:
(after me)love,and after you.
I occasionally feel vague how
vague idon’t know tenuous Now-
spears and The Then-arrows making do
our mouths something red,something tall

i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite new a thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body.  i like what it does,
i like its hows.  i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones,and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the,shocking fuzz
of your electric furr,and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh….And eyes big love-crumbs,

and possibly i like the thrill

of under me you so quite new