compare me to a starry-eyed poet
that wrote little wisdoms and gentle sorrows
who was too passionate for her own good
tormented by mental malignancy
the cancer that scribbled down her woes
in composition notebooks scattered on the floor
it was far too young a day
and a far too distant night
to keep her heart beating
she was the night sky raining down on stationary
with words like clouds on her mirror;
"a few more breaths, and it will reflect nothing at all."

we have listened to the
same three albums over
fifty times, and i am
running out of way to
avoid telling you the truth

I was skipping on the concrete tight

rope when the wind swirled beneath my tipping
parapluie and I took flight into the loosely

hanging telephone wires and my voice suddenly
cracked through a handheld, reciting the lyrics of a favorite

symphony.

the first time, touched
us, otherwise strangers
delving within ourselves
our overt close encounters
past intimate imitations
of love’s labour lost and gained
we collide
again and again
crossing over, crossing under
energies focused at the hip
flowing through & into one another
endlessly
we release
feathers soaked
in each other’s essence

Every girl who has had a match up with sue
Wonders who will ever love her, she has not a clue
Somewhere on her beautiful canvas of a skin
Lies tainted artwork; to explain one cannot begin
Scars inch her body, whether visible or not
They are reminders of a darker time, a time she has not forgot
Trailing along, like a road map of misery
Some say they are disastrous, while to others they are beauty
She asks herself, questions others
"I'm covered in scars of sadness and regret
Leaving memories I can never forget
So why would any guy choose to love me
When on my horrid body scars are all he'll see"
Everyone told her she'll find the right one
Who'll understand and cherish her with love
Until one day she found a subdue boy in school
He was an outcast boy, who nobody knew
She took the chance and said hello
Never knowing this was her perfect fellow
One night she asked him her question
And he replied
"I asked myself that very same question
And then I met you, and all your perfections
Not one part of you is flawed
Even with anxious marauds
Let my tell you this my little angel
The only person who can love such a devine creature as you
Is someone who's pain similar to yours they have accrued
It takes two broken individuals, to make each other whole
Takes each others stitches to mend one soul"
And with that said he pulled up his sleeves
Showed her his scars, and with that she finally believed

Why is it that when we feel
like our world has turned inside out
flipped over like a dying fish like a dying bird
like a broken wing bent out of proportion
all we can do is say a two letter word
in a fleeting expression softer than the fleece
on my freshly washed jacket where I hide
from every sound and breath

oh

I used to close my eyes and pray
that the car I was in would crash
and then I would cry because
I didn’t want to die, but this life couldn’t last.
See, pretty much all of my past
was a tragedy, full of imperfect eulogies,
and I just needed some fatal travesty,
along with some medication and a few other amenities.
When are these memories to fade?
They seem to stay the same,
regardless of the day.
Sometimes they come to life in the shadows of the night,
so I’d close my eyes and pray,
that the car I was in would crash.