I am in a dream full of romance.

A Young war hero arrives home with
A broken spine and he says
He wants me
And a broken house
With a crooked chimney
And a red door.

I warn him, quietly.
I tell him that my door is green
And that when I open it
The wind will always blow it shut again.

He hands me a can of paint
And he kisses me on my lips.

I live in a broken house
With walls full of bones
behind a red rusted door.
I do not use my door.
Only thieves use red doors
And I use the skylight
Sometimes,
                                                                ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                    I wish I were still too stubborn to be lonely.

A man knocks on my rusty red door
And I yell at him through a broken window.
He has a boat,
And this sea captain takes me on his ship
Under heavy woven sails.
He names me first mate
But keeps me in the kitchen
Until we start taking on water
And I push him off the stern
And sink the boat myself.

Wandering along the shoreline
A lonely figure on the sand
A woman silently thinking
With a notebook in her hand
Dreams and aspirations
Floating round her head
Trying desperately to reconnect
To parts of her long since dead
So many tales of sadness
A heart so full of woe
It really is a tragedy
To see her silent tears flow
Her shoulder's hunched in sadness
Her broken heart a love does seek
If she can find the strength once more
To forget the man that made her meek
Such beauty all around her
But does she even see
There's chains of steal around her heart
Longing to be free
She turns and walks so boldly
Her footprints in the sand
That woman silently thinking
With a notebook in her hand

Why are people born, brought to bear pain,
or pain built and barred "burying" we barbarians?
You would think cavemen could sing more than
Grunts--open your mouths and voice the ears!
The frags hum louder than your joyous day,
a time you sprint from gas and gears.
I'd like to see that, please my men,
so I often--always--ask us, "When?"

The day my eyes reached yours,
that’s the day I never saw again.
The day you kissed my lips,
that’s the day I never found your kiss.
The day I opened up my heart ,
You closed the doors to my mind.
The day I tasted perfection,
I found myself comparing.
The day I let you go,
You kept my sacred possession.
In a way I want you to have it
Because it’s the only thing we have left between us
And all of our memories are like ripped pictures
But I still keep em.

i could believe in the mouth of others



                                       honey, you both got chemistry like sugar and ice.



i could believe in my own little brain

                                      


                                  tell me what is so wrong with me..                                                

                                                               ­                     



tell me why..




                                                            ­i could kiss your lips

                                                               ­     with o p e n e d  e y e s ,


                                                     but i cannot bear to look at you

                                                         when you are embracing me






                                 i could confine in the quarters of my heart.


(since when did the fact that I possessed such monstrosity come into acceptance?)                                                     ­                                                     

                                    

                         ­                          inside the four rooms




                                                       ­         portraits of your face

                                                           ­                                  lingering  
                                                     ­                                            vanishing  


                                                       held up by strings of infatuation,



                                              
              ­                                       making the walls






                                            collapse      ­                                            condemn
             ­                                                constrict                       collide      
                    
                                     carress                             consume                     crash    

                                                      ­crawl                                            curse


        ­                                                      cannonize  ­               corrupt

                                                        ­                  
                                              ­                                  crave




                                                            ­                   floating          

                                                               ­                                     down
                       ­                                                                 ­                      

                                                               ­                                                down
                                                            ­                                                  
  
                                                             ­                                       down.    

tell me why..


i could write so shamelessly  that


i need you                              


                                                      i adore you          

                                  i miss you                  
                                           ­                                                      i   l o v e  y o u                          
        
i want you                                        
                     ­                             i cherish you
                                                                ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­              
                                                


                                                   six thousand and eight hundred times.





    

but i cannot tell you that  " i want to see you so much it hurts " .
                                                                ­                                                                 ­                   

                           it doesn't quite matter.                                          






it is only a simple act of
attempting to balance the sanity
of a toothless adoration
with blinded self-proclaimed
masochistic interpetations.
                                                 ­                     


                                         ­                          it is only the veil of an apathetic shell
                                                                ­   to fortify monsters
                                                                ­   laced by the maddening hormones of
                                                                ­   teenage mediocre oestrogens.


it is only bruised knuckles
wrapped in cheap bandages
in the futility of closing wounds;
as there is no such
blood in the world that has not yet
been tainted by obscenities.        






                                      ­                       it is only the fact that
                                                             i have a tendency to stare at you as if
                                                             i could stare right past your flesh and
                                                             bones but i forget that your skull is
                                                             just too ******  thick.                                      




it is only a masterful literate
who can comprehend the laws
of sentence structures but refuses to
write the word " you" and " me"
in fear of establishing "us".


                                                  




                  it is only my heart that you hold, bleeding in your clenched fists.




       the more i think : the more i hurt.

i was is my hands drugs)!
         evaporating splendorous
      sugar canes
                            the ruby of muscled
hell
             and discharge of sinuous
      marvels

                when the fat skinny
is in vulnerable propagation
       a cloud
                       gilded
    and spake "
                             you are sweat and pain and tenuous ,
  meet thy shall i when thous tedious crumb
        is spent human shell by the ground
          resting in loose solid soil
            bath and"
                                             thus
      rattled the increment of
                                                   lovely      and kind

         death      whom
                                              i       argue
          upon daily
                                    and

                                                      make

in the extremity of my ladies passionate jib
          my current cells
              speak loudly the name
                                                     of life
             in her vambrace
                                           of muddled pink
intoxication. my ex cellent fauld