Her eyes were fiery
While her lips peeled away
Her sun was setting
But her colors never fade
When she bites she is bitter
But when she smiles she is sweet
Like a nectarine emblem
She’s the fruit of life’s tree.

To love yourself is an art.

Nameless men sketch their fantasies along my hips
admiring me as I were their
                                                           masterpiece.

**** in an antique wooden frame
    that hangs by my throat,
                                                            gagging.

I remember
sometimes

her voice would quiver

like paper lanterns
dancing in some
foreign nighttime glow

I fancy
sometimes

I knew that sweet tremble

at a tea ceremony table
beneath Chinese skies
many years before

it first caressed my ear

Words hurt they say,
but the feeling of them being etched
is akin to new found pain
a pen would be easier,
staining my skin, in-erasable
the pencil is more dull
perhaps then will I finally feel smart
it feels like an unwanted tattoo.

Our texts went from paragraphs
to sentences
to one worded answers
to one sided conversations...
you only check on me for one to two days, then forgot me...

So tell me, do you really care about me? If you need me to leave, I will leave.
If you think that I am clingy and annoying, tell  me! I can leave...just tell me the truth...please!
Stop pretending, you won’t have to suffer, I want you to be happy...
even if I won’t be part of that happiness

u see the knife
you watch the glow
u see me smile
but can't hear me cry
u think i'm happy
but inside i'm breaking
u see the blood
then u realize
that i wasn't
lying
when i said
i'm depressed!
u wish u gave me the
support i needed
but now it's too late.
I'm dying inside...