"Dear Mr. Mouse,
I understand that you're just trying to keep warm, and you're welcome to stay under the couch. But please refrain from coming into Daniels room or running under my feet when I'm in the house. Thank you. Amen."
"Did you just "amen" the mouse?"
"Yes. I have a very pantheistic view of the world, therefore the mouse is an extension of God and it makes perfect sense that I would end with "Amen.""
"What if the mouse is an atheist?"
"Well then maybe he'll still be flattered that I would think so highly of him."
"Or maybe you'll have ****** him off."
I laid awake in bed until the early hours of the morning, and every sound I heard that night was the pitter patter of little mouse feet- he had received the letter, and, being horribly offended, was coming to exact his revenge.

Looking back,
I found prayers scribbled in the margins
of my sociology notes.
Sometimes,
I am unsure if God still lives
or if we have killed him.
But considering the answers those prayers received,
I believe He is still kicking.

The devil’s acts scratched into your skin;
Scald yourself with your own sins.
**** his soul out through his chest;
Ink it out- **** his quest.
Her mind in torture, her lack of amour
Fills her with fear- a ruptured shiver
Here he clutches a deadly dagger
Stabs the prey with morbid hunger
Stalks the hundred blackened souls
Digs a hundred hardened holes
His huge wings sign menace
Kills their passion, screams, “There is no grace.”
In his head, he feels misled.
The way he sees the girl
“I’ve always wanted to tell you,” he shrieks
“You used to be so beautiful!”
The sockets in his face leaks
The conjured up image in his head is dreadful
He lets out a final bloodcurdling cry
A signal of his goodbye
Before he stomps across the sunken boat
Tilts her head and slits her throat.

Thumping of the heart,
Echoes in her mind
With each little step,
Reaches she; The destination.
The destination of her gullible mind.
Eyes blurred with tears,
Happy tears,tears of freedom.
Retrospection seeks her mind; sad days were gone. 
No longer are they a part of her soul,
She looks at those scars,of pain and violence. 
Which marks her pale body.
'This is the end' , her psyche tells her. 
End of her forbearance. 
She'll fight,for the sake of dignity.  
For respect,for pride.
The phoenix in her soars high,proud and unafraid. 
A new birth, a new identity. 
She'll fight,for a change.

My parents always gave me enough rope
To hang myself
And that alone kept me
From crafting a noose
But you
Gave me enough rope to hang
The both of us
And that, my dear
Is all the more enticing

nobody warns you about the first boy who tells you he wants to marry you.

nobody warns you about the tangible shift in the universe when he parts his lips to smile.

nobody warns you about the poetry he'll write you or how your knees will weaken or the melancholy hidden between the layers of his laughter.

nobody warns you that miles will morph into lightyears and you will curse the ocean for being the only thing that keeps his fingers from resting between yours.

nobody warns you about the day his sweater doesn't smell like him anymore.

nobody warns you that human hands are incapable of holding a person together.

nobody warns you that sometimes love is not enough, no matter how much you wish it was.

nobody warns you about the crippling nostalgia that renders you breathless.

nobody warns you about the nights when silence screams for your blood.

nobody warns you about the crater that forms in your chest in the middle of the night when he doesn't answer.

nobody warns you about how it's going to feel when he tells you he's in love with someone else.

nobody warns you that forever is a lie.

- m.f.