Cups of tequila,
Sitting by the window,
Thinkin suicidal,
thinkin bout the days when you were sitting in your bridal dress,
Everything about this has me stressed,
It's really hard to get this off my chest,
I just wish you had said yes..
But you never did,
Drinking till I'm sober,
Painting on my wrists,
What about the things you said, remember everything?
Pictured us together, happy, six or seven kids...
Guess it wasn't meant to be..
Wish I could erase this,
All these memories
It hurts to think that now, we're each others' enemies.
The day that I accept you left will be the end of me

Sometimes I wish the night would never end.
Sometimes I wish it did.
Because that’s when the thoughts drift in
and never leave my head.

You stare at dark empty space
and the voices start to speak.
They tell you all these doubts
and everything in life that you seek.

Running in, running out.
Here they come to play.
Thoughts leave and wander about.
And in the night they stay.

Hiding when there is sunlight.
And although there were many thoughts that stayed
I thought that everything would be alright.
But even up to this day.

They never leave there place at night.
They creep back into my head.
Midnight conversations.
I tried not to listen to what they said.

And when the thoughts got to much?
I just said goodnight,

and went to bed.

I am a paper girl.

I apologize too quickly,
sending rushed sorries as
the response to imagined offenses,
as if to cancel out my existence.

I am white and pale and blank
as an unstained sheet of paper--
pure only in the most superficial manner.

My coloring marks a lack of creativity,
a "promising future,"
devoid even of the virtue
found in failed attempts.

I am flat and two-dimensional,
my surface marred
only by the unwanted sensation
of crackling loneliness.

The clock doesn't stop ticking
My heart won't stop to beat
I will not stop breathing
Because you stopped being sweet
I won't let you hurt me
This is where it ends
because we're only lying
because we aren't friends
We've always been more
But you didn't know
You were my love
but now you're a foe
*But I'm still alive

My Checklist:

-Do my homework (might as well fail)

-Eat my dinner (all I want is dessert)

-Brush my teeth ( brush my teeth....... your mom )

- Go to bed ( as if I had a bedtime)

And where in this schedule does it say "Write a poem and express yourself"

Thank you for being there within my time and space
Being consistent with your love, even when face to face.
Giving me insight unto my pathway of fate
Bringing me lessons of courage – bathed in fashions of late.


You’ve provided me courage to step up and face the trials
and tribulations brought forth from this undying faith.
For being yourself with everything you do
For taking my hand and walking me through.


For loving me regardless of my past mistakes
And never loosing hope – my soul so lost of late
The lessons are over – my growth nearly complete
So now, I embrace the Circle of Life my friend.
Thank you for being there till the very end.

he wrote three poems that night
and all hell broke loose
the children looked through the windows
and fell in love with sin
the men stood on the misty northern platforms
waiting for the trains to take them to the front
and the women wept for hours because they were afraid of change

he wrote three poems that night
he stood high up on the city walls
and fired them at the crowd with his magic Beretta shotgun
to a bunch of innocent by-standers
who would never return to their homes sane
and they laughed and they felt awkward
and they knew it was up to them to sing in tune or disappear forever

he wrote three poems that night
one exploded like a space shuttle in the frozen black sky
the second burned the gates and freed the tigers from their cages
and the third roamed the streets with a wicked smile
- dynamite strapped around the chest
and high on acid like a bulletproof *******

it was the night the dogs were barking his name
and the signs on the walls were painted blood-red
while all the communication systems broke down
and nobody was ready

but clearly
he was

Hey, I knew you when you had frosted-tip hair
When you listened to The Smashing Pumpkins
When you were lazy and carefree
And you copied off of me.

Hey, I knew you when you aimlessly wandered the halls
looking for a vending machine and a quarter
When all you had was a backpack and angst
When your car had no bumper and chipped paint

Hey, I know you
Not as this sniveling, disaffected perfection-pusher
Not as some right-winged orator of damnation
Not as this devouring greedy pencil pusher on a pedestal

I want to go back and show you the new you
You, the coward.

What would the you of then think?