perhaps imprinting this razor into my thigh could be considered "grieving"
as you lying down in bed all day weeping
and perhaps my means of adjustment more productive
in that afterwards I could arrange a fake smile upon my face and move along
while you stay in that same place all day
(on those 1000 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets)
listening to that same song
although both our mental states as shattered as broken plates after the plate tectonics broke underneath that chestnut oak
in oakland

I was not informed that when you fall in love,
you’re supposed to shout ‘This Means War’
at the top of your lungs, and dare the world
to catch up with the soles of your feet. You

ran across plains and through valleys, the
soles of your shoes worn out from stomping
out tiny fires, all started by your temper. I was not

informed that you were permitted to burn down
and pillage villages with your careless acts of
lust. I've learned that the world is not exactly round
however it's magical in the sence that it’s got a

way of putting you right back in the spot you were
trying to escape from. I saw fighter jets and
missiles in your eyes, and felt bombs in your pulse.
I loved you, though. Your lips were the only thing left

of you. But even they swore and spewed anger. I
was not informed that when you fall in love, your
heart is supposed to die. You struck fear in the depth
of my soul...but I forgot:  ‘all is fair in love and war’.

The vampire is at the door
The wolf is in the yard
The ghost is in the house
The lunatic is baying at the moon
The siren is off the shore
The serpent is in the grass
The pain is in the heart
The killer is in you.

Just breathe
If you can't do anything else
Just breathe
Even if I have to do it for you
Just breathe

Reflecting on life, on becoming a wife
Constraints of a marriage
That will end in a carriage
And me in the back boxed in
Awaiting the ground all damp and brown
A coffin with flowers atop
Flowers not in the ground growing,
But, dying and withering along with the cadaver
Already dead, already going off.

Do you think of the body in the box?
Do you reflect on a life that is lost?
Or do you just turn up on the day
Stare at the display, and know sooner than you think
It'll be you in a box, full of stink?

your image fades from mind
as the sun sets to a black sky and
I wonder if you meant what you said,
I wonder if I really want you to mean it,
I wonder if, sitting here in the dark,
I think I am in reach of something
that is no longer there

Your voice's like honey
Like acid flowing through me
And I
See in your eye
Still I crave to be abused
In the precious name of servitude
The numbing perfume in the air
Agonal soul ****** to spare

My earth, my sky, my sea
I made you everything to me
Feelings come alive inside
Souls combined to decide
Verses of my aching heart
For their time to leave a mark
My spirit sunk down
My lung started to frown

A bit curious I became
But everything stayed the same
For you I die
For you I cry
Without you I rather not live
Without you I won't forgive

Two hearts joined
In the fate of love
Two hearts break
In the wings of a dove
One heart still loves
Still hopes, still dreams
One heart hurts
Still shouts, still screams.

He undressed
her seductive
     mind.

corrosion of the soul
happens slowly but surely
by crushing grind of monotony.

each day society tells me my
value is based on my function and production,
and little by little I am crushed by failing expectations
that are not my own.

my soul slowly corrodes into nothing, but
out of the vast emptiness, life emerges again.
I yearn to be free, and this time I bear my
wounds with honesty and dignity. I am
unashamed about my soul being free to be me.

I have value period, not based on function or production,
but simply because I have a spark of life within me.
a divine spark that gives brith to new life
within me each day, each moment.

I mean a lot to people, but I don't mean a lot to me....