The woman on the corner forgot to shave her legs,
but  men are only interested in  soft women,
inside and out.
She couldn't  go home, or call,
because she didn't have a phone.
So she sat on the corner
with nothing to keep her warm
except the hair on her legs.

A man walked by who wanted her service,
he had a bag of lemons and an old watch,
she noticed he was wearing shorts,
the amount of  hair on his legs made her feel better.

white powder mildew in my ears
whisper something I can hear
it's fear
give me something to harness
maybe fill this emptiness
it's clear
two blue eyes and a mouth full of doubt
I want to hear you shout
that you're here
Feeling broken all the time I lose myself
within the rhyme
my dear

cold winters rain
weathers game
I'm feeling insane

I'm a black dove
you're a green-leaf newt
I'm not sure what to do

green leafed crystals canopy
over me like
a cave
surrounded by a miracle
working but never
a slave
no dreams could dare to stand against
such a sweet
magnificence.

in the wind
they bowed
as I danced
in and out,  through & through
small white plastic
cubes
inescapable t a n g l e s
reach up and under while
imagining

all the
                        a
                            n
     ­                            g
                              l
                         e
                    s

Headed for the desert where
brown sands and blue skies
hold no traces of my insides.

His loves were his lies
tough and sticky, his words
taffy words, which I would chew
all tangled in my teeth and beginning
to root deeper until his lies were my gospel.

With faith so stubborn it refused to let go,
I began to breed his insanity through
following and repeating, cavities,
bad habits that feel good for
brief moments until you
wake up wanting to
disappear, rewind
or just die, to
forget it.

Headed into the mountains
where towering trees teach me to Stand Tall
and the river tells me to Let Go.

The wind whispering:
                         secrets are for the weak.
                          
Discretion is what creates mystery,
filtering speech is a gift I have yet
to behold for much longer than a
meditation in a crowded room. so
instead of passion, I choose peace.

Headed to downcast weather and
snow littered pavement. Fresh air
and a new enchantment, where I
find opportunities with each inch
that layers upon layers, snow like
onions, skin like ice, onion hearted
peeling and half in the trash, half
in half just barely beating for more
sense of security in adventure and
pulsing and throbbing with the
excitement for the unknown.

patience is peace. patience is peace. patience is peace.
peace is release. peace is release. peace is release.

alright, don't invite me
see if I care what you
share with the other people
you might call friends
who are simply pawns.

                  it feels strange to finally write about you

I was going to write by
hand and in a letter
but you never deserved
it in the first place so
why? I ask myself why
in the hell would you deserve it now?

you said you like
me because I'm articulate
In reality I think it's because
I took your **** without spitting
everything back for you to look at
you brought my hand to the bottle
made me numb to your toxicity
while I was ******* on your
***, never ******* both, HA
you only kissed me when
you were bored and
never because you
really wanted it
hating truth
hating you
......    ......
     ......

alright, I DON'T HATE YOU, but I want to tell you
                 i hate you
for what you let me become and for what you didn't tell me
for all the time I spent thinking about you and for all the time
wasted wishing that you thought about me too for what you
always gave and for what you never gave because all I ever
wanted was tobeclosewithyou apparently I got trapped in
one of those cliche phrases "keep your friends close and
you enemies closer" perhaps you knew I wouldn't like you
if I wasn't drunk, you knew I would get bored and leave

well, chocolate truffle, you were my worst mistake

I am learning who my friends are

darling, you were only fake

tired of fighting
glass words
leave me shattered

kisses and touches
that I once thought mattered
rebuild me
with your broken wings
let me curl your feathers
so when you leave
you're in circles
still thinking of me

blinking
squinting
lost in the ride
afraid of what's ahead
a suicidal girl
who already feels like she is dead
eating bread
staying home alone
letting the music play
and the TV drone

**** instead of *** today
******* the thoughts away
legs have never been an open gate
although she doesn't make you wait

you're special
shut up
get inside
eat a home cooked meal
and ******* love yourself

*******
love
yourself

The last man alive
raised his gun
and emptied it
into the sun
as it sank
out of sight
left alone
in the night
he couldn't decide
what he'd won.