She's got broken things,
Where her heart should be,
Shattered glass from old,
Milk bottles and shiny,
Fragments of CDs she,
Made for the love of her life.
The central ***** was beat,
To a ****** pulp,
And her bones are now,
Made of glass,
So fragile one step might just,
CRACK.
But she seems to,
Keep on going,
Even though the going is quite,
Tough.
Even with bones of ice and,
No heart,
She hasn't had enough.

Perhaps I wasn't made for anyone,
Perhaps I was made to stay alone,
With my thoughts,
And my words,
But perhaps,
On a better side of things,
Perhaps,
I was made for myself.

Your lips are like poison,
But I crave every,
Deadly, killing, tortuous,
drop.

I had long forgotten,
This nervous bumping,
Within my stomach of,
Butterfly wings brushing against,
Hearts, lungs, stomachs.
But he has brought it back,
With the fury of a hurricane,
Sudden, only slightly expected,
But never truly prepared.
Each message is now carefully typed,
Carefully prepared, time decided upon,
Each phone call spent nervously,
Picking at my cuticles until the bleed,
My heart is beating out of my chest,
Every time my phone buzzes.
I forgot for so long,
This giddy revelation,
Of fresh emotions and nervous,
Banter across states.
But, God, oh God,
Am I glad he's brought it back.

I was fooled once,
By the crystal hopes,
Of love and happiness,
I've decided now,
To close shop,
Lest my heart be jested again.
Once had been shame on him,
But fortune had not my favour,
Fooled again, twice it seems,
And I only have myself to shame.

Riding in an airplane,
Is one of the most terrifying,
Yet most beautiful things,
I have ever experienced.
There is something about the
Rumble beneath my legs,
Of the engine's purr.
Something about the lurch into the air,
That moment when you're
Neither on the ground
Nor truly flying.
Beautifying and petrifying.
And when turbulence is hit,
In the tiny Beech1900D,
The continuous jump, jump, jump,
Of my stomach,
Like an unending roller coaster
Only going down hill,
Lets me dance with death,
If only for a moment,
Before our wheels screech,
Against hot, angry tar,
And I can kiss the ground,
Once more

Kissing the ground home
Writing haikus in the air
Long plane rides are done.