I see the malevolence in your eyes
You hate to lose.
You are the one who wins the fight.
I love the mischievous grin you wear while playing
Talk about all the masters,
now they're failing.
started off young
burning with passion
what a perfect child you were
Life's been teaching you its lessons
Your eyes,
warm brown,
filled with competitiveness
you don't let anyone see you frown.
It's game time now,
and your eyes are fixated on the board
you move those pieces
and higher you soar.
Take all of 'em down and crush the opponent's fate
Check mate!

I give zero ***** anymore.
I have no more ***** to give.
I'm totally absolutely incontrovertibly
fresh out of *****.
My supply of *****
is completely out -- see??
[cupboard door swings open
Only to reveal
a fuckless cupboard]

Even the **** Store is out of *****.
I called them just now,
The guy on the phone said he was
Fresh out --
He told me:
The production and manufacturing
Of ***** has been outsourced
To Shenzhen China,
And the workers are striking
Because they are getting paid
Fifteen cents an hour to produce
6 ***** a second --
Which is inhumane and just wrong.

I asked him why they didn't pay better --
He said, ***** if I know! Like I said,
I'm fresh out of ***** to give
So who gives a ****?

Why do I have to go to college?

          Why do I have to get a degree?

                    Why do I have to 'succeed?'

                    Can't I just travel with nothing but the clothes on my back?

          Can't I just be broke and live my life for the mere thrill of it?

Can't I just write and draw and write and dance and be me?

He holds his breath
So she can gather her thoughts
He would die for her
And she would watch

His hands are numb from
strangling the demons inside

I wanted to be wanted....



                                                             *...but not like this.

Heart pounding,
   Through the night
She knows the darkness well
     Been blinded by the light
And dragged through hell

Soul crushing,
   Through the days
She knows the pain never ends
     Been sliced open, fogged and dazed
And the voices in her head,
Have become her only friends

Head throbbing
   Through the dreams
She knows the sound of silence not
     Been left wounded, no one to hear her screams
And tortured by the presence of one single thought

Death knocking
   Through the silence
She knows he'll keep waiting, just like before
     Been failing at keeping up her defence
And this time, she simply opens the **door

do not date a girl
who writes.
she will internalize
everything,
carve poems
into your eyelashes
instead of
kissing them,

she will analyze you,
calculate age
from the rings
your coffee cup
leaves
instead of refilling it.

she will memorize
the way your
lips curl around steam,
but not that you
take it
two sugars,
no cream.

she will read your
palm instead of
holding it
against her chest.

she will not
blink
when you leave,
because she is
already
romanticizing it.