don't look them too close in the eye
don't attract their attentions
to excite them is to excite Death
and as He comes, meandering
up the stairs toward you,
so do they, as if one and the same.
don't feed them
don't allow them any emotion
for they slink down hallways
and bars, long tendrils like
glimpses of hope
and passion at those
fingertips
--keep the leash tight!--
don't let them touch you
He finds victims by touch
as do they, the killer
is in the contact
and a beautiful
tragic Death
but Death all the same
and they reap like the harvest
as He comes crawling up
the stairs quick behind
for He knows that as they go
so must He
don't look them too close in the eye
don't attract their attentions
don't fall in love
they strike with quick precision
and then slip quietly out the window
into bars and bedrooms of others
waiting to be reaped
and He meanders up the stairs
toward you

Maybe it's even worse
when people compliment my poetry
Saying things like
that was so beautiful, and
you are so talented
Because there is nothing
******* beautiful about ripping
apart your heart and looking
for something, for anything to find
worth not hating
And it takes no talent to sit in solitude
and think and think and think
until the only place for you to
put the words you can't speak is onto
some crumpled up piece of paper
And they wonder why all poets live lives
full of love but more of loss
Living breathing and eventually dying
for someone who burned like the sun
and stung like frost.

I'm not afraid of the dark
Just what's in the dark
I'm afraid of the monsters

I'm not afraid of heights
Just afraid of falling
Forever

I'm not afraid of love
I'm afraid of being hurt
By my love

I'm not afraid to try new things
I'm afraid of failing
And being laughed at

I'm not afraid to talk to people
I'm terrified of what they have to say
Either good or bad

I'm not afraid of everything
I'm afraid of important things
And honestly
Who wouldn't be?

the butterfly
had wings of glass
shattering
it tries to fly
from
the cage
created by me

my palms
and careless interlocking
fingers

the wings
turn scarlet

sometimes I lie
on the cool ground
underneath the dark sky
dew seeping
through my clothes
holding out my palm
to balance the moon

in my hand it sits
wiser
and more silent
than yesterday
when it becomes
hidden
beneath a dark veil
of relativity

I whisper
I miss you
to the moon
and search for answers
I don't find in the stars