cold English day
same as any other
no sun in the sky
today
the days
just get
colder

She used to be strong
You couldnt see her flaws
she used to be breathtaking amomgst
Them all untill she let you in.
You bring out the fear the insecurity
You make her feel beneath
The words you scream hit the core.  
You're making her contimplate death.
Acting like she's just crazy.
Remember when you used to call her baby.
When you said I love you no matter what.
That you would be there
We can get through anything
She ****** up yea, how bout all those times you asked for forgiveness.
Now you claim to wanna still be friends
Yet you write songs about her
That compelled love
And tell her you dont want revenge
You dont wanna hurt her.
Yet you always do.
The things you say the **** you do.
Youre a fool.
She thought she didnt deserve a man like you.
Now you make sure she wont be happy
Anytime She is you try to sweep her off her feet
Just to treat her like a stupid peice of meat.
She loves you you see.
Because what yall had was true
And your a good hearted man
A warm kiss at night
A protector of her  and you make her heart skip a beat. . But you hide youre heart or hate her or pretend she doesn't matter
Your a boy
Who thinks he has notuing to loose
But your loosing everything you see because she cant sleep in a puddle of tears
Wont eat or anything because you made her gave hope and then you took it all back
Acted like you found better
Said oh well.
Not knowing that she already hates heself not knowing shess a little to deppressed.
Nd you just keep digging her grave.
One day youll be the one closing her casket.

Maybe youre just my bad habit.

like waves in the air,
poetry is a scream in the forest,
the pebble on the beach,
the utterance of a soul,
scribbled in black,
and signed with red.

It has been
seven months, and i
still don't like nature anymore
because it isn't filled with
the branches from your ribs and
the fallen leaves from
your head. I can't
look outside without
craving every part of
your forest in ways i can't seem to
quantify in tear ridden pieces of
paper i always threw away.

Every inch of your bones is
made from the richest soil that i
yearn to plant my dying flowers in, but they just
never seem to
grow as much as you wanted, and i
am sorry. I can never apologize enough for
the countless hours i
wasted trying to find patterns in
your twigs that were always going to
be random. I have always found
hope in the littlest things,
especially the way you said my name
in a tone only Shakespeare
could have described.

It has been a while since
you visited my garden. My meadows
are now filled with
the weeds stemming from the stained
words you said to me that
last night. I always thought
you'd be the one to provide
sunshine to my plants,
but i always mistook your burning
hands for the Sun i suppose.

Now your memory is like a
fog that i can't run away from,
and no matter how many times i
pound at my dirt and
fertilize my trees with other sources,
I seem to only grow from
you.

-MB

Question marks
tucked safely in their beds
this dancing in my eardrums
is disconcerting
collapsed into a light socket
smallness becomes smaller
vitality shrunk to a keychain pendant
time leaves track marks on my body
doors crack open,
watching me think
(please, turn off the light)
laborious trains of thought
off their tracks
shrink wrap over my nose and mouth
if I knew why
I would tell you

Well not quite

I can say to anything
But there are still dreams
And sealed hope

Broken wings
Are only clipped
But...
They seem beautiful
As if they are holding onto the magic -
Mystery children know first,
And adults thirst for
At four
When the days isn't done
Or about to come

The moon is stuck in between
Holding the spell for freedom

Our wings struggle
Because we want more
Only,

Not quite sure
What that is yet