A flower is poetically redundant,
I'd rather use a bomb with wires -red, green, and blue.
Cut one, let's see if she loves me!

My biggest fear
Isnt the monster
Beneath my bed
But is the monster
In my head.

Last night I told you I loved you
because the feelings built too high
And I
had been trying to let you say it first
So it wouldn't hurt if you didn't reply
But as I was laying in my bed
my heart was beating fast in my chest
And i could no longer swallow
my esophagus was full up
to the brink
and you were already asleep so
I wrote
All the reasons why
and that i didn't expect you to reply in kind
and i pressed send
i cant remember exactly when
you became the keeper of my heart beat
but i felt you should know
it rest in your hands

My coffee was bland, but I was a dreamer.
I crafted my plan like a caffeine-hyped schemer.
To walk to the cabinet, lock in like a magnet,
On the oversized can full of cheap powdered creamer

Down on your knees for Donald, honey.
Locker room talk for a warm-up, honey.
Are you using the right email to talk about your war crimes, honey?
Hey, baby boy, don’t forget
that you have the right to pressure any girl that you’ve ever met into non consensual ***.
Hey, baby girl, don’t you forget
that no amount of experience or intellect
will get you farther than nineteen percent of a combined House and Senate.
Then again, over fifty percent of white women voted in the Red.
I wonder if any of them have voters’ regret.
Looking down the line of faces that have held office since 1776,
I wouldn’t be surprised if this is just the first one we’ve called out as a ******.
Serial killers put on the nicest faces.
The nicer the “nice guy,” then the scarier he is.
Fold your hands and press together the tips of your fingers:
this is the church and here is the steeple.
Look inside: here are the people,
hiding from a teenage white boy terrorist
that the media claims has a mental illness.
How many more lone wolves can there be
until we realize that they are part of a hunting party?
So cross your fingers and cross your heart
and cross your eyes to blur the start.
Cross your fingers and cross your heart
and pray that these bullets miss the mark.
Load your words into your hands and steady the point of your finger gun to my head.
Freedom of speech is being attacked now, honey.
The “alt-right” doesn’t like it when you say Neo-****, honey.
Are you taking notes for your next rerun, honey?

Dear kid you are the picture
of heart on well worn sleeve.
You oiled every wave of
raw emotion
and etched it on your own face.

Each time you draw a tear
the cascades fill your sorry eyes.
Far cry from masterpiece,
or symphony
but your truest portrait caught in time.