you've got the face
of a beautiful flower
that brings joy to all
those around,
especially me.

when you smile it's like
I am reborn.
the sun shines
brighter.
the grass is
greener.
the water is
fresher.
life is better
when your presence graces my
vision.

but behind the charming smile
and eyes that seem to light up,
is a sad, sad boy.

i know you are scared inside,
hiding behind the power and
glory.
you mask your screams with
a plastic smile
that you greet everyone with.
but i can see it in your face,
the face
with a frown eternally embedded into it.

you deserve to see daises
and beautiful butterflies,
you wonderful man.
you deserve all the love in the world,
and all the happiness
because i see the light in you
being eaten away by the darkness
you harbour.

don't let yourself drown in the
icy waters
and let the darkness
freeze you over
in this winter
wonderland of yours.

you deserve to be happy,
boy.

I met him not long after I turned fourteen
young, fresh, with the bad girl twist
of knowing how to pet myself between
sure of my stride, sure of their greed
though when you begin to bleed
you tighten up your step in the dark
easy tight pink wet watermark

left to mull I'm all men hunger for
but they take what they need and nothing more

under fluorescent lighting, my first arrow found the hunt
wide, lurid eyes of a circling hawk
the game became me, rather I ripened
a chase of electric desire with no end
to live behind the backs of letdowns
+ **** + give + take on school grounds
what a finger to you I said with a drag of a smoke
lost as to whom I actually spoke
he drank the spring when it flowed so simply to him
fingered my throat and saw stars therein
took his fill and said don't call
seems he got all he needed, after all

seven years have passed since I was last fourteen
but I saw him last week walking down Leigh
he missed my glare as he passed
but I caught a glimpse of a hint of past
eyes of pitch locked in
too late
on yet again the youngest bait

He steps out for air
It is time for a smoke
He craves the nicotine
Yet what he exhales
Is electronic.

It is Thursday night
Happy hour about to start
He is not allowed to drink
It has the same color
Apparently with the taste
Of what he is aiming for.

What then is the point
To root for a substitute
Is it so hard to swear off
We need familiarity that
suits.

A discrepancy between
What is and what seems.

Using this word to replace another
Perhaps one to soothe the torture
Finding excuses to justify actions
A lie in disguise enough to comfort.

He decides to go cold turkey
It is harder but at least
He is not pretending
He feels his truth, forgets the substitute
He learned what passive smoking means
And as of late,
Apple juice had become his drink.

She arrived mysteriously when the clock struck midnight on my dark rooftop. I turned and only her eyes glowed, they were inviting. I felt a seductive curiosity that compelled me to move towards her. The moonlight exposed her beautiful curse. She had black long hair like a black cats fur, red lips like they had been soaked in blood, and pale skin like that of a person who had seen a ghost. She said, "My name is Callidora, I will grant you immortality in exchange for your soul.” I shook in fear but her eyes said she could show me the world, what I desired the most. So I let her kiss me and lean toward my neck and bite me. We were flying in the cold dead air, taken from the living into something rare. My flaming soul in her heart now, my body reborn by her ****** saving kiss. She granted me the true gift of eternal life, a second chance that came at a price. I let her **** me for love because I wanted eternity with her.