Can you understand  
  beyond thinking

Can you know more than
  your mind can learn

Can you overflow
  without leaking

Can you warm beyond
  the fires burn

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2016)

Poetry is
An echo
Asking a shadow
To  dance

I did the thing I'm not supposed to do again
He said he'd leave if I did it again
Well I did it again
And maybe he won't find out again
But he will leave again
He'll find another lame excuse to leave again
I'm falling apart again
Thrown on the floor again
Breaking down again
I'm drowning again
Please don't leave me again
I can't take this again
He's gone again

If he loves me
He rarely shows it
I think he wants
To leave me
Why should he
Even stay
Every one
Leaves anyway

I looked for love
In a bottle of *****
Spilling out my soul on everyone's tongue
They swallowed my love down their throat.
Calling it spit, they came to me with open arms
And smiles in their shy eyes making me believe I found love in a person with shy eyes
But I only loved how they smelt like alcohol when they whispered my name, or when they lifted up my shirt with hands full of bad intentions. Even the times I knew I shouldn't , I always did. I liked the way they watched me undress, like they wanted me. But only because I was stripping naked in front of them and guys like that just wanted to feel something. I thought I was loving people, but I was hating them, giving all my anger to them for pleasure only to find myself in the same spot
Falling in love
With a bottle of ***** dripping down my throat

He is everywhere
The places I eat
The places I sleep
The cigarettes I smoke
The music that plays
The stars at night
The clouds in the sky
He is everywhere
But I can't see him

I hope I give you nightmares that wake you up in the middle of the night and make you sweat. Now you know how I felt, when I was wide awake. You ****** me once, I won't let you **** me twice. Shame on you, shame on me. I hope I make you sick, sick to your stomach. When you think of me, think of heartbreak. Feel what I felt for days. *******, for making me this way. I hope the blood on my wrist makes you cringe.

She's the girl who only drinks black coffee
And smokes menthol cigarettes
With her lipstick staining the filter
She laughs at corny jokes
And dances in the rain
until her hair is soaking wet
She's the girl who listens to birds singing
In the mornings before spring
And writes poetry about heartbreaks
She is the storm before a hurricane