I stopped loving you on my birthday. Did you know that?
It shocked me out of that confused numbness I'd been living in
Momentarily.

Like a twig snapping
A candle, quickly snuffed.
All the other cliches people use to say that what was,
Suddenly isn't.
Can't be, anymore.

But it was sudden
And it was shocking
And I didn't know what to do.

So I tried to pass it off as ***
Or stress, or distraction. But I knew what it was.
I knew what it wasn't, anymore. You didn't.

I wonder when you stopped loving me
Because surely you've stopped loving me
And I'm glad you've stopped loving me.
It's all I hoped for, from that day to the end.
I hope it was before the end.

For my birthday, I made my cupcakes
Drank my liquor
And prepared myself to remember how to love you.
But I knew I couldn't, anymore.

Someone asked me the other day
"Do you like her?"
I thought for a second and smiled,
"Yes, yes I do."

"God, you're such a lesbian!"
I smiled and replied with,
"I know."
And kept on walking.

Later in the day
People were staring at me
And
Calling me names.

I held my head up
High
And smiled.

Nobody will stand in my way.

Blue eyes,
               disguised,
by scattered specks of green.

Red hair,
             compared,
to a lion's messy mane.

Pale skin,
              unhinged,
from a fury of freckles.

Strong voice,
                    rejoiced,
with wonder, will, and wistfulness.

Gentle heart,
                    apart,
from pain in his past.

Rough hands,
                      demand,
his lover's hand to hold.

Soft lips,
             kissed,
by his one and only,
                                 me.

If you fall in love with fairy tales
nothing can compare

it'll haunt you like a memory

that was never really there


and if you're thinking that you got it

It will just crash to the floor

and you'll watch the cracks appear 'cause you can't

take it anymore

watch it crumble down to pieces like a

slowly dying flame

as the triumphs turn to teardrops cause

it just isn't the same


when you find that the glass slipper fits

you mistake It for a sign

then you find out that the glass can break

while you're promising you're fine

the rose is losing petals and

your Prince won't come its seems

you've been sleeping in your tower but

living off false dreams

this is not the way it ended

in your fantasy

where's your knight on shining armour?

now your waking up to reality

You created an illusion for yourself in which I refuse to sink my teeth into
Not ordinary, you are finding yourself just like the others.
Swim away and through the iceberg tipping, but never will you get far.
Breathe in, breathe out, and the air seems enough to suffocate you.
Your little spark, your potential
It seems to fade and fade.
You have your fairy tales, and there’s reality.
You realize there something more
Can’t sleep unless there’s something breathing in your room.
I hope you sleep well with the ghost of me
I hope you get through with the skeletons in your closet.

She has matchstick fingertips
and lighter fluid in her veins
Every time she touches me,
She leaves a trail of flames

She's a lantern in the dark
Brighter than every distant star
Not even a forest fire
could hold a candle to her

The sunlight doesn't pour through open windows here
It drips through slots in the blinds
Creeps underneath the front door
Sunlight this time of year is scarce
It is white and cold, like wine
And so we bottle it up
Thirstily tapping light and saving it in the cellar for the darkest night

NEW YEAR INTROSPECTION PART FOUR

the air of maturity 
is breathed today
with such rarity 
that what is termed 
the age of majority, *<
is in reality not, 
it instead being 
a place of minority; 
it's occupants being 
the selfless lot who 
give freely of their proffering, 
offering themselves an offering 
and considering themselves 
adequately advantaged 
as they willingly 
position becoming likely 
to be taken advantage 
and taken for granted
hearts ready for breaking 
yet give, love, share
heal, they do, 
and freely so; 
therein standing 
in stark contrast to 
the narcissistic hoards
who protect, 
with pirouetting steps, 
their barren nests, 
empty hearts,
and meager pockets, 
ever failing to realize 
that nature’s law 
bestows abundance best 
at the selfless giver’s behest.