I'm ashamed; posting
these awkward poems; expecting
you'd read this and smile.

"I feel loved but I
never be happy*) because
of it. Go away."

It was another
nightmare I din't mind having.
At least, I met you.

Childlike mind
A body of 97 year old lady
Putting on rubber boots, entering a forest

Cheetah's legs
Giggling, humming
Rotten teeth

Dark, dark, turn on the sunlight
No starlight reaches ground
No moonlight saves sound
Of, of skin wrinkling

Fishy tongue
Silver head
Copper heart
Bleeding

Keep running
Like a cheetah
Giggling, the lake's lost sparks
Drowning

No blue sky for eye
Stomach without butterfly
Let the wind sing, scream, anything

Cheap cone
Melted ice cream
Ants, ants, fire ants
I

Holding too tight to sorrow
high concentration acid
Melts
an ice cube
a season
a scar
opens

Know the joy
accepting pain
My school didn't
teach me that

It begins when a
butterfly dies. My stomach
is an insect grave.

I have this tone of
voice only you can listen
but can't bear to so.

I promised we'd meet
before I died. I didn't
know you could die too.

I told you purple
was my favorite. But, see,
really, I had none.

I love what people
tell me, because I am too
dull to see what's shown.

Poetry's there to touch.
But, touching without consent
is bad, isn't it?

I do a lot of
bad solos at stage corner
so you won't notice.

Another name that is not mine
you mention in a prayer.
Another voice that is not mine
makes your body shiver.
Another smile that is not mine
brings back the child in you, a dreamer.
It feels like sword. Like cyanide acid. Like fire.
Typical, typical destroyer.

The air tastes like apple. Like God's anger.
And, somehow, somehow, it hurts.

Flowers and fruits have
seasons; You too? I wonder
what scent you would lose.