lol i survive
Thank you
Thank you
Thank you!

We are not dating
and
I don't like you.
You are one of my friends, and I love you as friend.

I saw your brown eyes in many ways:
when they're blue, I set your mood to red.
Setting fire so we could burn the whole blue horizon.

When they're grey, I laughed a lil bit because your idea of everything.
Listening to our dream and dancing till the day comes.

When they're brown, we went to our own world.
You were the king and i was the queen, ruling our kingdom and executing our sadness.

man, those were the days we looked at each others and said some *******.

then, the day came and we took different paths.

soon, I'll see you sit beside me, cheering the moment from our thrones.

As friend.

Thorns tighten round the neck,
Wicked words cloud her head.

The sharp little teeth of the
Bramble crown
Inject her perfect scruff

Her feet grow numb, one shoe off
The other still on.

Her eyes remain open,
Reaching for the door.

For when one closes,
Another opens up

But this
Stayed jammed, tight shut.

She longed for this hanging,
To be the way out.

To escape the clasping hands
Of hoofed devil.

But as her blood pooled
And failed to clot.

She released, life was
Everything she thought it not.

I went outside for a cigarette
Sat on the step and
I see myself down the street
forty years from now;

Burnt like an ember in an ash pile
Ground into a particle by
the street sweeper to be eaten
by the atmosphere's tangled black tongue.

Walking up and down the
battered stairs tires my weary legs
with every trip I make
Lungs crying for air like a newborn.

A tool for procrastination
A tobacco fascination can lead to
a disastrous situation. Kurt
Vonnegut once said, "Cigarettes

are a classy way to commit suicide"
He must have been stupefied making that statement.

Like taking a blade serrated 1000 times
and nudging one more notch through
his flesh with every caramel covered kiss.
But he was too scared to take it out.

Exhale and apologize to Earth
for his suffocated statement. Breathing in
snakes and rusted copper.

The man down the street probably wishes
to be my age back in his day again.
My eyes frozen in space like Walt Disney's
severed head.

He catches a  a cloud of smoke
and his lungs scream through stalagmites
that drip with unwashed tears
that never fell from Vonnegut's stone face.