There’s a broken bird in the red snow at sunset
Drenched in water and freezing fast at the hands
Of two red-blooded boys who laughed
At the feeble chirps of protest emitted from between
The little pink lips of a red-cheeked girl
Her blue mittens were matted with snow and flying fast
Hurling packed ***** of frozen water at the boys
Even as the sun disappeared behind their heads
And she was trapped in their shadow
She dispelled them in haste and in a spray of snow
They were gone leaving a broken bird and a sad little girl
She took the white scarf from around her neck and shivered
The bird chirped meekly as it was wrapped and carried
Mother’s sympathetic smile was not enough
Nor were father’s promises
The bird was put in a box outside to spend the night
As a storm raged outside she could not sleep
The empty box in the morning a ray of hope
Or a damnable void
She chose hope and washed her red-speckled scarf
And in the spring among the many-winged shadows
She searched for her bird certain he still flew

Even if I wore a watch,
as we talked until dawn
that pure summer morn,
gladly I'd have held the hands
to halt time's sands,
if it meant that serenity would linger;
But to the future,
time pointed with its finger,
and sailed us to distant lands.

It's early,
But not too early.
It's grey and calm and it's what I know to be the best.
Birds, so many birds for October.
Their nonchalance is refreshing.
Just easy and calm in the not too earliness of it all.
I think they like it too, the grey.
The grey is what I remember the most out of scattered,
Tattered memories.
And breathing.

I cant' write How I feel
Act on whats not real
theres no peace if not resloved
How can I script love,

If Im constantly correcting
your lines your stumbling
I need this to be real,
something you really feel....

Not just words you memorized
actions emotionalized,
but this has to be real
I need you to feel......

Im not looking for an actress
Who's use to her back upon a matress,
Im' looking for a lover
who doesn't just love undercovers,

Show it to me in your eyes
or eles this script is lies,
let me hear it in your voice
as if you had no other choice,

So recite your lines
As if It was inception of the mind,
and as we do embrace
Let passion flow along your face,

and say it....
what I wrote upon your heart
becasue for me this is ture,
"I Love You" .....

Let the world hear it,
Present your debut
And lets throw away this script
Cuz now its just Me and You....

The marvelled servile manifestation of faces in the waves
mere grains of sand
against the world.

you feel them on the back of your head
they slowly peer down his arm,
out his fingertips,
to your hips

you feel them,
suddenly piercing,
like an arrow slowly tearing through each layer of skin,
as your lips collide with his
soft, so soft,
compared to the stabbing on your back

his hands trace along your side and you’re burning
you know the eyes can see
you pull away,
the fire becoming too excruciating
you feel the grip that the eyes have around you start to loosen

his hand glides to yours and suddenly the whispers begin
little words screamed into your ears
little words that are said so softly,
but you swear they could make you deaf

his hand feels so heavy,
like a rock pulling you to the ocean floor
the sinking and
the burning and
the screaming becomes too much
if you hold his hand long enough,
you’re sure,
you will burst into pieces