as i walk through the empty hallways
i fix my gaze on the worn floor
each footstep is heavy
and drags across the hardwood
the movements have become involuntary
a product of repetitiveness
not passion
i cannot raise my eyes to the photographs hanging on the wall
these black and white remnants
of what seems to be a life of mine
lived so long ago
that I cannot recall the details

but I remember
I remember the girl
who grew up learning hatred
so ashamed of what had been given to her
and so afraid of a life untouched
I wanted so desperately to give her the world
but she destroyed my heart
and left it black and blue

and I remember
I remember the boy
with wild black hair and a voice like honey
who told me everything I thought I wanted to hear
who pulled me in so quickly
but I drew away with little pause
and so I left him
because I am just a girl and cannot give you the world

I remember the boy
who I watched settle for anything
and everything that crossed his path
wondering if I too
was just a commodity
if his plans of seeing me in a white dress
were fixated on the dress
or the soul wearing it
so he destroyed my heart
and left it black and blue

and I remember the girl
who loved everything too much
who looked at me with wonderstruck eyes
and convinced me that I could be so much more
but the skies are never clear for long
and as the dark clouds rolled in
I learned that she hated the rain
as I watched her run inside
to someone new
as I stood amidst the raging storm
while she destroyed my heart
and left it black and blue

and I remember
I still remember the boy
who looked me expecting nothing
except me
the smoke envelopes me
whistling my name
and I move in closer
closer to this warmth
this all consuming
all encompassing fire
but I am scared
I am so scared of the thought of burning out
or becoming engulfed
only to discover
that these flames are not what I want
so I run
I run far away
to safe
monotonous
empty "love"

and as I watched him fall in love under the autumn leaves
tending my scorched soul
dragging my feet along these empty hallways
realizing I destroyed my own heart
and I left it black and blue

It may take too long a time to write,
For the anxious future's now the past,
But the words are flowing out at last.
Composing verse on love and hate,
Death and youth,
And all of nature,
First and all loves,
All relations,
The beauty in all of creation.

I'm pleased to share
My P.O.V.,
On myriad subjects
That interest me;
A perogative poets share
At all stages.
We take liberties,
Endure indignities,
Being the voices
Of all ages.

The cold breezes of November,
The dark and lonely nights of December,
Days had cut in ones desire,
Now there are snow capped mountains of January,
These months passing by so fast,
And you my honey haven't come by,
You had gone last September,
Promising your return,
From that day on wards,
I waited for your arrival,
The raging war and conflicts,
They have lengthened your stay,
For as long as I can remember,
Now I just can't wait.
Please come back,
The war will take you away from me,
Remember the promise that you made,
You'll be back in one piece,
Let that be,
Vandalism all over country,
All over the news can be seen,
People in uniforms running to save our country,
But I am too selfish to let you go,
I don't care about the rest,
Just the misery that struck me,
Of losing you,
And how it would be !

My pulse is racing
I can feel their eyes on me
My heart is aching
What is it they want to see?
My legs are quacking
I feel like I'm drowning in an endless sea
My life is a endless berating
Keep walking, don't look like your in a sense of urgency
With a final burst of energy
My daily task is complete
I've made it to the safety
Of Period III

his breath woke me up every night
we lay in bed; no, it wasn't
that his breath smelled of toxins,
but of dandelions and poppies.
his hair smelled like he rolled around in
fields of roses and he was
the single dandelion that begged and
pleaded to fit in.
he would never fit
in but he didn't know that, so
he kept trying and it was
so beautiful to say the least.
underneath his skin, in-between
his veins and his bones are tiny seeds that
i planted with kisses and they
grow with my love, when i wrap my
bony arms around him and
squeeze tightly - it lets him
know that he's not normal, that he's
not right in the head but
i love that. so when he wakes me
in the middle of the night, as
i lie between him and the emptiness of
the night, i think that i'm dying
but the moon light lingers and i
know i am safe with his flower breath
and the weeds growing in-between
us and the roots that grow out
of my heels and strangle the love
picture frames on our off-white
bedroom wall. i stare at those cookie-cutter
pictures and wish i wasn't right
in the head, too, but if we both were
psychotic, he wouldn't be a dandelion.
so i stay awake and watch
his beauty radiate in the darkness of
the night and wish that i
was that beautiful too. but he
tells me that my battle wounds don't
amount to anything to him, that my skin
is a ghost to him. i wish
he saw me for me, but his eyes
see the beauty that he grows.
but several nights he leaves me and
i am cold and i am worthless and
i pray to a god that he will
come back and taunt me because
i cannot stand it when he is
not here between my fragile arms
keeping me warm and safe.
i beg him when he returns to just
stay the night, just one more night,
because i cannot bare to
sleep without the dandelion amidst
all the rose petals. i need
my dandelion to keep me safe
and to be the needle in the
haystack - i need him to be in my
arms because idon'twanttosleepalone.