The only ardor that was present from both parties lays casually in
a lonely apparition.
My eyes were crowding his. Cornering the triangle.
Does my soul mate only exist in my unconscious past?
Had the lips I kissed so long ago touch another’s?
Had the lips touched you more than my soul had a capability of?
I rocked forth and back in a misery you knew.
Was it planned?
The sweet songs of melancholy compromised everything I once owned so well
My rival was now beside me with sincere gratitude that I could not feel yet.
The tears you will cause the poor girl, does she even know?
Did I create this monster who haunts my sleep?
I cleaned out the closet but he’s still hiding under my bed.

My absence was a mortifying misfortune,
The ponies drew their swords at the amity,
The sunset hung close to my crackling toes.
And the rings of ardor were a constant reminder of the fall.
We know we rise again in the sunrise
but the plastic hair gave fraud  to wishes we made days before.
The soldiers clamped their wings tight
The circle had not comprehended the fight we fought for.
The context of these misused actions could be used to modify.
“Please come again” The narrator spoke.
We rode the carousel again.

Goodbye, my love.

Who promised me his heart and soul was devoted to mine for eternity.
Who kissed me harder than a hundred bees poking their stingers to my veins
Who cuddled me tighter than the ocean drowning  
my weak bones.
Who vowed to love me unconditionally and never
hurt my broken self.
Who brought me deeper than our
our underwater castle, where our planted roots grow.
Who made me dream of things I was taught not to think of.
Who gave life back to me.

Who makes her laugh
Who is forcing paranoia and images I’ve never seen before
in my wooden head
Who is alienating my life into bits and parts

Who brought my shell back on.
Who has proven me wrong yet again.
and Who gave me something no one else had ever given me.

Thank you, my friend.

The world was crashing before her eyes and the movie was playing
over and over.
Blood flowing through her air, wiped off by bright colors she despised.
She lived in a dream she wanted to fall asleep to.
She whistled and weeped and  wrecked and wed widows
who walked among different grounds than her
She plotted fresh and icy white droplets of mint in her mouth, awaking her morning breath
She masked her soul in itchy wool sweaters and her emotions in
pounds of make up
Melodies and harmonies are plucked by strings. A voice and a wooden guitar create
A symphony of truths
Something never articulated in a conversation was flowed out through this cold and curved instrument and on pure sheets of paper
Piles of pages of stories of those relating to the villains inside our hearts,
All honesty is gone in modern stories of victimization.
A relation to the simple days is caressed in moments of weakness.
Crying the Sh’ma to her God,
to the ferocious tiger,
the trustworthy elephant,
and the regretful giraffe.
A bond reflected through gold and a diamond reveals more hatred and despair than the love and commitment it was given for.
Songs sung sounded of serenades and lullabies all were real abominations and a nuisance
among her razor.
The flame flew away back at camp, all that is left is wax in her seemingly well pampered box. The fire’s flame was filled with water.
Oh, what a cancer.

I signed this providence with no reluctance
and I loved him.
His kisses had the same satisfaction of catching raindrops in my mouth,
Hold, my contract dissolved before my eyes,
I felt lumps on his skin that used to be my kisses.
I weakened him and pushed him back so many times.
This bird that flew so proudly was now a corpse and I, the murderer.
I dreamed of raindrops on my tongue, I got them back so many times.
Before the judge, we sat on opposing sides of the halls.
“What caused this end?” The judge questioned, I wondered.
I was floating on the floor. I needed his warmth,
He needed an end.
I signed this providence with only reluctance.