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Day Nov 2011
it’s with a heavy heart that I expel these thoughts to endless seas
toward oblivion I see a vibrant, burning entity
inviting me to spill my blood
and to unwind my mind for him,
with faith I leap beneath and into the chameleon rhine.
Her tide will keep me safe from monsters that I swim among
and current pulls me further, and then pushes me back in again.  
it’s with some heavy feet that I’ll now walk toward the ball of fire;
o’ shame of my confessions please don’t yeild this truth from me.
“I am the only truth,” he states;
we speak for weeks or minutes or days
about purple and orange and yellow and green
and how to see the colours of me;
how the blue isn’t blue unless you really look
and how you can’t believe everything you read in a book.
I tell him of sadness, which dulls his glow.
I tell him of the soulless, which he knows so well.
I tell him about sidewalks and concrete fields,
and how our trees have fallen ill.
and he speaks in short, brash flashes;
he is everything
and then nothing;
he’s gone before I get to say goodbye or really even said hello
and all I know is I’m left with nothing
and something,
and if I keep following the rolling stream
North and South and West and East,
and if I flow as One, surely I’ll find him again
and when I do I'll spill my self;
my mind, my body and this soul as One into the chameleon rhine.
Day Nov 2011
however, we don’t know anything…


                                                  so we call it quits.
Day Sep 2012
beat as a heart should

                  Heart never understood
the motion of Her words ‘cross page
and page

and
infinite
as th’ Atlantic
kindness flies through space;
abandoned.
when He left
She clung
                   to the blood.

beat as a heart should
    
                  Heart never understood
the penmanship,
or heartbreak                       as a muse.

pursuit came to an end,

                  relinquishing  Her pen;
does beating Heart
                    demand the sight to feel?
Day Nov 2012
I’m cat ears on a cold, winter night;
bite a mouse neck
just for the tease
and let her run

away& life leaks slowly perhaps for
years and those
scars will stay
'til the end.

blooded fang, true love of the taste
of wide-eyed horror,
gut screams;
-- insatiable.

a victim caged yearns affection by
the soothing voice
of a beast
in the dark

but mama kept me far from the zoo.
baby eyes, a woman
never feared
                  so.
Day Oct 2011
we spend our whole lives
with one goal in mind
in pursuit of something far too hard to find
every minute we give to intangible ideals
we grasp for air
               as we fall
                           behind

a police man
a priest
a dancer on a pole
we’re all just the same
we’re all searching for souls
for our own – or another
for one of a kind
to be different
and the same
but we’re too **** blind

to see what’s infront of us or even look around
to see what’s going down
around
and if we don’t take a minute to look around
                 …we’re all going down
we’re all going
       d
           o
              w
                  n

you scream,
WE’RE IMPRISONED
to a society numbed
eyes still forward
in a line
ten-hut!
sit, stand, come

while the evening news informs us
the media involves us
the remote control controls us
and the grocery store consoles us
I have to think,
            well, I must ask…
                               what do we work for
                                anymore?
thank you for reading!
Day Nov 2011
as a baby
I shed a tear
to tell you of all that ails me,
until the words
start to form;

now tears
still come often,
more, perhaps,
and I am entitled
to that which you give to me.

as a child
I walk
with my nose in the air
as to not directly
inhale my perfume

of arrogance
so sloppily sprayed
on wrists and neck;
underneath,
a faint scent

of fear and despair
lingers.
as a young girl
I hide
behind fear and despair

worried of seeming
arrogant.
oh,
how the tables
have turned.

as a young woman
I shed a tear
to tell you of all that ails me,
but words
never form.
Day Apr 2014
sometimes I can feel the earth's heart beating with mine - her heat often boiling my core. a burdensome blessing to bleed when others fall.
Day Oct 2011
change
Day Apr 2014
even lying next to him, it was never about him… somehow it was always you. it's only you.
Day Oct 2011
o’ face of wicked mystery, with suffering comes you slyly to fool me
with your trickery and play with my naivete.
acquire what you wish of me, some jewelry or my first baby?
such graciousness is never free
                              (however gracious you may be)
                                                      so listen to my one last plea, I will not beg upon my knees;
with revelation you must flee.
Day Mar 2013
to tell you the truth – sometimes, I feel quite withdrawn.
sometimes, I feel so tethered down like a hot air balloon in the clouds with an anchor on the ground.
I feel like gravity is holding on too tight, and not tight enough all at once…
the truth is, I don’t know whether I’d rather be up there or down here.
I don’t know where I’d go if I actually thought I had a choice.
the green grasses of Edenborough, the sandy shores of Greece,
that one spot in the middle of the ocean where the waves lie still, and silent,
or the eye of a hurricane making it’s way to land.
or would it be to the furthest star, hidden in the darkest corner of time?
or the smallest atom, hidden in the darkest corner of your mind?
if I could go any where, I don’t know where I’d actually go.
there’s just so much… so much… so much.
Day Nov 2011
forgive me mum but it’s begun;
frustration’s taken hold,
behold!

been sitting here
a day or year
just waiting to get old…

blood-shot eyes again,
you comprehend?
no **** she’s on the ***

and grasp that ballpoint pen,
again
I hope she’s got a plot

I'm quite sorry
no plot for me,
I’m simply not that able

I’ll spit some views,
I’ll sip some *****,
make poems out of fables

it’s really not that
interesting,
but something in me’s beckoning

to write write write!
so I’ll write write write
while you sleep and work and eat and live;

I won’t eat or sleep or work
I live
to write write write
and I write to live
god ****** 4 o'clock is boring tonight...
Day Nov 2011
first
let’s discuss
the girl in the other room

you know the one?
with the hair

who's wearing too much perfume

and those shoes              ha, those shoes!
you know?

her outfit's a costume




yeah, that's the one! the pants… they did make her look* (                                                 )
and her dye job?
heard it’s box

she has a **** job and botox


****, **** there she is



phew...


haaaaay girlfriend
I didn’t see you there!


your hair
is like
so gorgeous!
it's totally a win

and I
am like
SO JEALOUS
of your beautiful
skin!!!!

but could you be a doll
and go find my brother Pete?
I think he might be out front
finding parking in the street



ex…
oh…
ex…
oh…



she totally ****** Pete.

I know, she seems nice but trust me she’s a *****
her legs are always open boys they use her like a bank
I know I’ve slept with like eight guys
I think she’s been with more than ten
I know I cheated on my boyfriend but she totally ***** over men -


Pete! hey,



thanks, giiiirl… love ya!

ex…
oh…
ex…
oh…







so -ahem- this poem is called
*I Thought I Knew You...
Day Oct 2011
you looked pretty standing there
in your white spaghetti straps; your skin sort of glowed the way sunlight hits tree bark and I could see your smile radiating through the dark.
you looked pretty at midnight
with a beer in your hand, hazy eyes and all
the boys staring.
you looked pretty when laughter came, as you spilled your drink all over the floor and I helped you clean it up.
you looked pretty until you opened your mouth;
all of the prettiness vanished and it looked as though you were never really pretty at all.
you looked pretty until your words lain naked in bed with me and I saw them for what they were;
barren, cold and empty
and in that there is no beauty.
thanks for reading
Day Nov 2011
I.
a shining city,
rich with a tangible pleasures
and docile smiles

II.
skyscrapers gleaming;
invisible almost ‘til
somebody leaps off

III.
concrete streets over
flowing with cigarette butts
where flowers should be

IV.
inhale the poison;
breathe deep venomous air where
oxygen should be

V.
live one life here
for you are so near the end;
so close to freedom

— The End —