i spilt tea on my floor
tonight
and it reminded me of you
the way the sticky sweet
coated each tile
the way it stuck to my skin
like an undeniable sin
like you
suicidal tendencies
with starved remedies
breathe me in like a camel ninety nine
i parch your mouth
and chap your lips
like a deceitful crime
i am the sound of silence
that plasters your room
you sit there like it's your
self-proclaimed tomb
and i sit here awaiting
a silent conversation
to resume
my thoughts are absurd
and obscured
and they twist and churn
rarely settling
as though they are waters post stir
i do not like being less than
and i am afraid i am never more than
and i'm always settling
for less than
because i am
less than
hot tea sticks to my lips
and i can feel a death sentence on
my tongue
and it tastes like ***
mixed with ***** and wine
and i cannot comprehend why
i would make such a drink
but i cannot comprehend
why i do much of
anything
you say i am thunder
that you love the sound of me
but in my wake you blunder
and i realize
how i am a horror story
that you shoved with the rest of
the skeletons in your closet
and i realize
i reek the most
instigated arguments
tearing parchments
isolated little girl
i am alone
i am alone
i am alone
i am surrounded by people
but i am alone
do you hear me screaming
for you to look at me
and see me
for all you see is
sticky sweet
like i am spilt tea
you could lap up
on your charcoal tongue
cancer smells good on you
it smells like lilac lullabies
like lavender daydreams
and lily sighs
you are a nightmare
lost in a fantasy
of being something real
and i am alone
lost in a reality
of wanting adventure and fantasy
but nobody could foresee
the greenest of envies
that sat in my fragile mind
all i could feel anymore
was blind
for i cannot see
i cannot feel
i cannot breathe
help me
my heart is not beating
and i can feel it rising
to the ceiling of my throat
i'm afraid i will choke
each of my organs have shifted upwards
i cannot think
my tongue is not in my mouth
rather it sits in your hand
and you dip it into spilt tea
before asking if i would like a drink
i am smoke
sifting down your throat
chasing all of the memories
of happiness that no longer
sit in your chest
instead they dance
and adhere to the floor
as hot tea sticks like glue
and holds you hostage
and my thoughts run rampant
and spill onto my floor
with the black tea
that suppresses my urge to breathe
and it is like it is spilling into my lungs
and you ask me
if this is fun
but you hold my tongue in your fist
and my lips still feel smothered
by your kiss
because your lips feel like
your fist
and my blood oozes
like spilt tea
and you want to take a drink.

This poem is to my Beautiful and Loving sisters.
Also to my Brothers whom Love others strongly.
The strength that you both have , the strength of a lion.
You have the outpouring Love like an waterfall.
The Love never cease , but continue everyday.
I have been Blessed by you whom write .
Beautifully every day some with great wisdom.
You speak out of the outpouring of your beautiful hearts.
You whom never cease to help others with your words.
Thank you my Fellow Knights and Ladies you are indeed special.

What compels one to believe
That they must seek permission to feel free
To express themselves openly
When neither does any person own the worlds
Nor do they have any right over you.

And as the soul reacts to the
Colours that you paint it
And as the soul emits a cry of agony
The swirling walls seeping into its body
It reaches out
On a two dimensional plane
Laid bare with the souls of all, strewn
In whatever manner each soul can take
Because each soul has its due
And each soul must use
Whatever it can to survive.

I want to Speak Life into your Life.
I want to Love upon you with Christ love.
I want to always be there for you in all times.
I want to thank you for all that you do here.
I want to be blind and deaf to all of your..
Faults, Errors, and to all of your mistakes too.
I want to Bless you when you are feeling sad.
I want to help you when all else has abandon you.
I want to thank you for everything that you have done.

We're in the sun and I'm moving from your mouth
to your jeans, we're watching the stars and we're moving
We're going down the green boulevard and we're cruising
you speak Romanian, I speak you, we're going to far
and moving to the beat as one and the wind blows the hair
in my face and I got news for you, I can see you just clearly
as I could before, carefully, barely hanging on and catching movies

I can't keep away from your kiss, back and forth want to feel
the rest of you and all of you can't wait to catch you all alone
we're in the sun and I'm moving from your mouth
to the hole in your heart, tell me how you feel and who you are
you speak barely, your rhythmic breaths tell me all I need to know
waste the day and spend all the time in your pockets, all alone
floating around your head and hanging midair in your palms like
a red balloon

I'm losing my focus
so hard to concentrate
my mind is bouncing
like a rubber ball on
glass walls

Everything is weighing on me
like the fact it's been nearly
120 days since I last spoke
to the woman I love without
reservation

Or that I'm struggling
with my close friend
trying to mend the bridge
of the relationship is hard
when she never replies

Or the fact that my addiction
is spiraling out of control
burning me alive and yet
I can't bear to sleep with
a woman since my last

I'm losing sleep even faster
than the US debt is growing
no matter how exhausted i am
I wake up feeling drained
mostly dead

The worst thing about this is
I can't even commit suicide
because I'd rather ****** me
a little each day with the pain
because I hate myself

Sometimes I will take ******* clad photos
and post them
just to reassure myself
that my body is truly there
and truly mine to behold
and touch
and gaze at
sometimes I'm called "cute" or "a ****"
but how am I a ****
when all I have given you is
sight
and not
touch

I want to be able to touch my own skin
and feel...
skin
not ghost stories
not scars
or fabric bound
so tightly that I can't move
I want to feel my hand
graze my arm
without that graze
skimming cold fragile
porcelain

I am tired of my thoughts
wrapping themselves
around my throat
cutting into my skin
my thoughts are a rope
that would string me
from an oak tree

Sometimes I run
with my shoes untied
and I race the world
because I love the way the
wind slapping my face
and the inevitable fall onto the concrete
makes me feel alive
because I do not feel
alive
can you see the ruby-crimson
spiderwebs weaved into my eyes
I know you can
and I only know that
because they stick out
like a dysmorphia on my skin
my mother asks me if I'm ******
and it's much simpler to agree
than to tell her I've been crying
because I don't have to explain
drug abuse
but emotions require an entire doctorate

Sometimes when the winds
shakes me and pushes me forward
I wish I was
a porcelain plate
and that I would
fall down and
shatter.

Little girl, your deepest fears have
Nothing on me.
Speak to me of your angst;
It's a miniscule bug to my foot.

Our pathetic misunderstandings
Are egos fighting the memories of
Each other in themselves.
Love is ***** and diamonds.

I love you prematurely when I
Sense spring on your
Skin. It turns me on beyond myself.
So let's just argue,

If that makes you feel as alive as you
Should beneath the hands of my
Unshared attention.
Little girl, your fears have nothing

On me.
I eat insecurity like sushi, wasabi
Memories of idiots telling you
You were never meant to write or

Be written of.
Grab yesterdays with the sticks of
Now-man's hands  
And toss them over your shoulder

Like salt after some you spilled.
Your deepest fear is as shallow
As a puddle.
I've shouldered ten times your

Weight, without love.
Watch me now.
You need not set a foot.
I carry you like the sky its stars.

I want to scream
Scream at the top of my lungs
Scream out the emptiness within
To my heart's content
Until naught remains within

I want to express myself openly
Spread my arms out widely
Cry in grief shamelessly
Keeping my heart on my sleeve.

But having painted our souls
And having tainted our eyes
And faking our smiles
Never really hearing, except what we like
We distort normality
And limit morality
But with the tainted,
Painted perspectives we hold
Morality is always relative.