A Way with words
A Way with wonder
A Way with thoughts
A Way with ponder

A Way with daydreams
and lucid reminiscence
A Way with bursting at the seams
with thought's threaded essence

A Way: The wrong way it is
for seriousness to attend
A Way: The wrongness from righteousness
of so many acceptences to bend

Dead or alive.
How can I know the difference,
either way, I've been "useful" all my life.

No love from life
nor life from love
until it was taken away,
by a man who's manipulation drove . . .

Tears I took for my savior
and joy from a dripping arm.
Crimson for my delicacy,
he claimed he didn't mean any harm.

His carnal needs only shoved
visions, a painful lance.
I will gladly fall from love
with a first and last glance.

Please save me from the ungloved,
forceful hands creeping down my intimates . . .

Addicted
craving and sleeze
Because every time i breathe
Adds a prescription of anesthetic I need
To benumb shaking hands
And passive aggressive thoughts
Passing when our eyes
Forget that our demise could be prevented
With one gentle cry of mirth

My skin screams from all the sights it must take
And every touch on this earth
Crawls with aggressive ****
But my gentle breaths
Make my heart flutter without beat
And that is all, not of death,
The world must ask of me.

Drawing out the words it contains,
To my cigarette, it lights its flame

Reaching for the blunt-reverse psychology
It turns around, burns its hole inside of me

So my lungs continue to thicken
Fog that will reverse my death from a quicken

Keeping me out of reality infinitely
So my cigarettes become my life
My poetry