A tiny universe rest on my skin,
A reflection of Amber and gold.
Belly flopped jives and reaping
Good times exists in the howling
Wind.

Look at the marks on her skin.
The way they tell her pain.
Slit and slash and blood on the brim.
The girl with no name,
Only a snark and a grin.

Lets find out more about her though,
before she becomes a shadow adrift a
raggedy ship.
Twenty-two, a reader, and a Jew,
A master of none, but yes,
a seeker of truth.
She did love this life, a great pretender she was.
Suicide never reveals itself, well, in itself.
It's always because of others.

The man of her nightmares found her.
The rest does not matter.

Tick and Tock, they both go hand in hand.
Her time had come, her time had come.
With a broken heart, but a precious smirk,
She took that blade and danced on her wrist.

Blue faced God,
He's Melted on the ground.
My heart is trapped in a pod,
It's broken and left proud.

There is pain between my teeth,
Wrapped in marmalade sheets.
I'm unable to walk, or talk,
In my path are ****** defeats.

I was never young, buy always aware.
Unsure if those sticky truth were
Merely cracked lies, like the ones
Inside of me.

The gentle breeze of an imagined kiss,
ends with tears, breaking you bliss.
Imagined lovers in this time of mine,
manifest couples, unable to go through the grind,
of the greatest crime;
I have you heart, you have mine.
It's better than suicide.
It's better than life.
The love of another.
The lover of life.

Rubber banded tongue,
trapped in your elastic mouth.
Pulling at your molars as the
dried blood rest in your mouth.
You look up and you see
Perplexing clouds shifting, one one way,
one the other.
The bees dance when they see this too.
They too know miracles when they see them.

You speak with repetitions, like an eagle
catching its prey.
One is natural though, like the beat of the heart,
the other is forced, like the vomited out "I Love You"
that are left at the graves of the dead.

Good intentions die sometimes, like flowers left at a
tombstone,
they to will end.

Chime along you baby child of mine.
Suckling out the little I have left.
Your mouth spits out leftover, green grime;
Unable to use it for the little left unsaid.
Rage through the age of remembrance,
Dance with the sass of the moon in June.
Ode to the majesty that is you!
Ode to the songs trapping all of your gloom.
The ages will remember little of you in the end.
It will end only in your death.
Little child of mine, do not cry.
It's only the fury that we call our lives.
Rushed back by the eastward winds,
It's our horses galloping, and on them, our sins.
Through the trenches and in the form of a flood,
Comes our remorse, it's face covered in blood.

Chime along you baby child of mine.
I have no more to give, for you see, I am almost dead.
Before I leave you, I give you my heart and my spine.
Here is the lesson: don't leave things unsaid.

That is the ultimate death.

Once I wore Yoga Pants to school
That day I got asked out 3 times
All nice guys
All nice people
But I said no to all of them
Why?
Because something about those
pants made them see something
they hadn't noticed before
And I didn't like that.
I didn't like the fact that they didn't
see who I was in a **** dress
or in jeans
or in other clothes
All they noticed was how my ****
looked in Yoga Pants
I wanted them to ask me out
when I wasn't wearing tight pants
*Is that too much to ask?

if I starve myself my bones will show
if I cut my thighs no one will know
theyll check your wrist for cuts and scars
but none will mend the broken heart.
ill pop the pills and die real slow.
quietly, so no one will know.