She was every kind of beautiful
  that ever was or ever will be.
  More so because she didn't care.
  We floated above the noise
  just us two in bed stars in our eyes
  consuming us numb to all else.

  Jealousy clawed its way back
  into my heart. It always does.
  It ruined every love I ever had.
  I'm old and still don't understand.
  I fear lust's sting. Green eyed
  monster always in the wings.

She lived on
the outskirts of sanity,
took up jogging
to outrun the rush
of other voices,
burned a sick day
organizing her own criticisms,
shaved her legs and edges
for practice sake,
trimmed her disorders
as "normal" girls do,
bought a fancy dress
to envy but never wear,
made marks on the calendar
to believe she had places to be,
like the local
coffee shop,
where they serve
a favorite flavor,
somewhat stable,
somewhat frenzy.

~
Strapped to the catapult
I sportively plan my escape
By listening to pictures
In stereo
Of the flight
Of a fitful fugitive
Who sculpted depressions in ice
Throughout the flowerbed
Where there is no true sunlight
Only its influence
And by inhaling this fragility
Onto glass
Lowering the thermostat
Like a guillotine
Until hypothermia
Took his oppressors
This coldness might well
Be everlasting
But then, so is the will to survive
~