I wanna fire you in my veins;
have you ruin my life
I want you to be the cancer, baby
I have to cut out with a knife

You
use to
comment on how
cold my hands always
were, back when you had
them to hold. I guess when
your heart is of ice, it tends
to somehow show Even in the
small ways, like the heart-to-hand
ice flow.

Infinity is so tedious
it just goes on and on
and on and on and on
and on and on and on

and on and on and on and on
and on and on and on

Forever has no limits
it just goes on and on
and on and on and on
and on and on and on

and on and on and on and on
and on and on and on

This poem's got no end
it might go on and on
and on and on and on
and on and on and on

and on and on and on and on
and on and on and on

Repeat ad nauseam

Cynthia Pauline Jones 11/11/13

some days,
i let myself
love you a
little too
much

you made me feel
extraordinary things;
things I didn't even know
were possible until
you held my hand.
it's a very strange feeling,
not knowing you were
breathing until
you're gasping for air.

You stab me in the back with a knife,
and I apologize for bleeding on it.