because when she was young,

people would ask her

"what superpower,

do you wish for?"

so without any hesitation

she replied "invisibility."

and then,

and then she grew up realising

it came true.

Sometimes
even the strongest
want to accept
a helping hand

Holding hands
in the rain
we are used
to withstanding
pain
just don't let go

I don't even know anymore man
I don't want to live anymore
My chest gets heavier every time I exhale
Every bridge looks like a place to jump
Oncoming traffic a play zone,
I want to wash my skin with a razor blade loufa
And clean my teeth with cyanic Listerine

I walk barefoot in hopes of venomous spiders
I break mirrors while walking beneath black cats on ladders
All the while hoping my 7 years comes in a lump sum

I hope I choke on a Goldfish for the irony
Because it's the snack that smiles back

I trust you
but personally
I have a hard time
trusting the
rest of the world

Like you view your sister
I have a hard time
realizing that
you have grown up
before my eyes
even more than I have
but I still
see you
as the innocent
little kid
that I first met
and it's crazy
how fast you have changed
into the young man
you are today

I don't trust
the rest of the world
with your heart

But I trust you with mine
and I hope that's enough

Don't you worry
I can get rid of those tears instantly
I can plaster a smile on my face
In the blink of an eye

But what I can't do
Is feel
Because after all these times
My emotions
Just don't work well anymore

So I pretend to feel
A rainbow of emotions
Especially now when I need them most
But all I can feel
Is dead inside

His dog chased her
through the woods.
The rifle can **** from
three-hundred yards.

Watch her leap logs
and sidestep
sticks grabbing
at her shoulders.

There are three Gods
in the woods,
behind any tree.

No one is as ruled
as the lawless.
No one is as sedated
as the frenzied.

Sympathy couldn't be
measured in screams,
but measured
in her breaths.

Beyond the
honeydew horizon,
the senseless cease.
The half-life of eyes:
her only escape.

Where the tree-trunks
are furnished by the
candied corpses.
Her feet chomp at the
prostituted ground.

She will die, here,
whether she lives
or not.
For what is stolen,
stays.

October 30th, 2011
11:14pm

the only time i will ever be thankful for that old friend
whose birthday i was waiting for
because that way
i was awake
when we finally said what we had been dying to say
for three years