It’s always
the least suspecting one.
You convince yourself
they are your stars and sun,
When all along,
they were just
another bullet in the gun

A chain of men
******* my heart

But I'm okay
Just torn apart

I'm not dead
Just need air

Can't breathe
This chain I wear

Hopeless girl
Used for lust

Now you know
Why I can't trust

A minute happy
The next alone

Everyone I love
Turns to stone

He said forever
And he swore

They come back saying
"I don't love you anymore"

Maybe one day
I'll break free

From all the lies
Suffocating me

**** **** ******* hell
**** everything oh my god
**** **** **** **** ****

there are worse things than
being alone
but it often takes decades
to realize this
and most often
when you do
it's too late
and there's nothing worse
than
too late.

Napping at midday
I hear the song of rice planters
and feel ashamed of myself.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.