I can't untangle the string anymore
Hands shaking, grasping at the knots
Purple, cold and numb are now my fingers
Arms shaking, weak, barley moving anymore
Vision has gone blurry making it impossible to see the knots
I can't untangle the string that is me
The tangled knotted mess I've become
But then you came along
Hands not fatigued or aching
With a better view of the string, telling me where to pull  
Slowly slowly
The knots began to fall, till there was nothing more then creases

Blush when I compliment how well your fingers fit between mine
I'm allowing my shadow to write this for me
She sorts through all the dead skin that covers my heart,
She wants to turn all the white into a galaxy of things you don't understand yet
It will obtain a mixture of sermons that don't mix well with wine or metal
But it always matches with skin
I wonder if you always wore white because nothing shows of blood stains better
maybe it'll bring out the green in your eyes
And how whenever I glanced at you I felt a nostalgic recollection of unhappy family Christmas gatherings
I hope that when you discover the effect you're having on me you take advantage of it
And realize you are blooming
Not as a grocery-bought plant but as a red flower in a field of yellow dandelions
I'm here to tell you my declarations are white and hot but I dressed them in black for you to see more clearly.
I miss the ocean and how the current always ran against me
I'm slowly beginning to like my shadow
I'm slowly starting to understand the color of the blind
I want the waves to tug at my ankles once more in a plea to come closer
like the way I would tug at your arm when I wanted to go home
I want your saltwater to fill my cuts because you've made me clean since I met you
I know you sting scars and scabs because you want me to be pure
and I am eager to be held underwater
My heart that stumbles across my chest like a drunken man making his way from a local bar to his home,
Look at how you've made it tough
Look how it heals on its own now
I have always had a love like a dimly lit room
And you are always carrying the candle

YOU TRIED TO TEACH ME ALOT OF THINGS
LIKE HOW TO BE COMFORTABLE WITH THE FLOOR
AND THAT I WAS THE MOST PRODUCTIVE THERE
AS THOUGH PLEASURING YOU FROM MY KNEES
WAS ANY INDICATOR OF MY SELF WORTH
BUT I HAVE DISCOVERED MANY THINGS FROM THIS VANTAGE POINT
I HAVE NOTICED A CRACK IN THE FLOORBOARD
AND HOW THIS CRACK SHOWS FAULT IN THE CONSTRUCTION OF THIS HOME
YOU CANNOT BUILD ME FROM THE BOTTOM UP THEN EXPECT ME TO NOT QUIVER FROM THE WEIGHT YOU HAVE PUT ON MY SHOULDERS
BUT I WILL HEAVE THE WEIGHT
AND I WILL LIFT MYSELF OFF MY KNEES
(IT WAS ALWAYS A POWERFUL POSITION)
AND I WILL TRANSFORM THIS SINGLE CRACK INTO MILLIONS
I WILL USE THE STRENGTH INSIDE ME I NEVER KNEW I HAD
I WILL DUST IT OFF WITH SHAKY HANDS
AND I WILL BREAK THE UNSTABLE HOME YOU CREATED FOR ME
BECAUSE IF YOU TAUGHT ME ANYTHING
IT WAS THAT MY KNEES COULD WITHSTAND HOURS ON ROUGH WOOD
AND I WILL USE THESE EXACT SAME KNEES TO EXTINGUISH THE SMILE ON YOUR FACE

Make a sausage out of me.
she screamed.

The color? I asked.
Yes. With all my colors.

Your nails pink
Hair gold
Eyes blue.

Skin?
Peel it.
She yelled.
It's torn
Tarnished.
Peel it
and make a sausage
In red.
She screamed.

My professor is looking at cars on a white projection screen
I am wondering why it was worth my time to come today
Bought a book for $260 so here I am

The boy with a Mohawk and
Chiseled cheekbones looks at me
I always catch him glancing back 3 rows

I don't know the colour of his eyes
But I know the exact bone structure of his jaw
and the way he tightly clenches his fist until the knuckles are white

He makes me wonder what I am
To know that I want nothing more than
His hand colliding with my face
What does that say about me

My professor is an old man who can't walk without a cane
He shows us his ****** art he is so proud of
We are all in rose colored glasses
That does not go away no matter our age
And that is probably the saddest thing