Sasha's greatest hits
*******
shaved clean
young thing
short hair
fake blonde
pouty stare
bullet wand
strip tease
there to please
unblemished-
                       smooth skin
stick ******* thin
tormented by how
I just can't win
measure up
*******
fantasy feline
maybe next time
you'll want me more
than your perfect pornstar *****

she forgot to write a poem that day,
and the day next
and the day next,
she forgot to write a poem that week,
and the week next
and the week next,
she forgot to write a poem that month,
and soon forgot that she had forgotten to write a poem,
she forgot all about words that rhymed
and titles
and tags
she forgot to write poems,
because she forgot to be sad.

He plays the guitar
        with a soft raspy voice
             we spent last night *******
                                   this morning too
                                he didn't mind
                        take after take
      of my audition video
seventeen strong
but he demanded ten more
             shopping
      and laughing
      and kisses
                        losing count
                              of how many times
                                          he tells me I'm beautiful
resting my head on his
as he watches all twenty seven auditions
again and again
to make sure I am successful
and choose only the best
        I fall asleep in kingsize white sheets
        peaceful
and smiling
                    knowing that I am safe and happy.

Grab me by the stem and hold on tight,
'til my thorns pierce your skin.
For a brief moment,
I will feel the essence of you,
and, darling, you'll feel me,
until you throw me down from the pain and clean off your hand.

Hands heal fast,
but your blood is still on my thorns.



I know that I scare you now,
but I just want someone to hold me.

No one ever gives me flowers,
but I was given a rose,
I hung it upside down
and let it dry
and turn crisp.
My room is now empty save for the rose.
I untie it from the ceiling and carry it outside.
The blood red rose is now black
and trembles to pieces at my touch.
I snap it
and let it crumble
into a stream
and let the water
wash it
away.

It's time.
the prologue has been set,
the characters introduced,
the inner conflict clear
and the goals established.
and now it is time.
This plot cannot progress
unless you turn that page
start the next chapter
and watch your hero,
one foot in front of the other,
bravely go
to a world unknown
and face trials untold.
You cannot read the end of the book
you cannot get your answers
unless you read the hero's hardships
and triumphs
and all the times of love and loss.
A book without an antagonist
without plot twists
and tears
and complications
and thoughtfulness
is hardly a book worth reading.
there are necessary
unavoidable
plot elements needed
to craft a story for the ages.
the first draft may be a rocky road
and you'll be overburderned with tools and guides needed to write
but soon
all you will need is your bare hands
a paper
and pen
(for you cannot erase the kinds of things written in this story)
and determination.
And on your story will go.
On your hero will walk.