to love yourself is an art-
so i let nameless men sketch
their fantasies along my hips
to prove that i am too,
                                                a masterpiece.

**** in an antique wooden frame
that hangs by my throat
gagging on the subject of
                                                 love.

lets talk love under these duvet sheets, boy,
youll see what i mean we can kiss and nibble on each
other's needs and **** our fantasies into ecstasy
ill trace my nails across your pink lips just as long as you tell me please
sweet talkin and my sweet voice
i wont hesitate to make you mine, boy,
but we can be patient and i can keep  waitin, for now ill just keep  layin under these duvet sheets
while you push yourself up against me and  kiss my forehead to sleep

i’ve felt my soul grown quieter with every passing day.
my lungs are tired
compressed in a vessel
that poisons it’s very own heart.
i’m not asking that you save me,
only that you read my confessions that depict every inch of my being
and accept the way i bathe in my sins.

strands of my hair
       tangle around your fingers.
you're pulling on the strings
                    of my mind.

so delicate
with your touch.

        it reminds me of
sunday mornings
making love.

you do not say goodnight to me anymore
  and because of that my nights do not end.
  my days do not begin until i pretend to forget
and i will fall asleep hoping that
you
did
not say goodnight

to someone else.

keep me warm
with your hands around my neck
or a sweater of yours,
whichever you prefer.
i’ll trace the places we’ve been on your arm and think this is fate,
it must be your pretty veins.



flashes of roses fly around my head
in a rushing manner but the world does not see your smile.
and i am lost within two thousand lost souls, including yours,
but i feel your hands and i feel safe.

fire.
love tell me a secret.
how long will i sink in an abyss of confusion?
well i guess i’m a bit silly for that question, but that means you are too.
let me rise above the god forbidden clouds and transpire like castles in tiny village.

foundation set on skin
concealing the expectations life begins with
rosy nails and acrylic cheeks
mixed up in what we believe beauty to be

it blossoms itself from mossy ponds and glistens in humid summer rains. the days pass so often it’s quick to reminiscence
how beautiful it has been.
do you want me to go home when you want me.

my heart stumbled into this/ jane gallagher, will you be mine?
i’ll surrender my kings for your company that has proved to be divine.

high in the
mountains
and
the only way
  down was to
ride it.

the devil dances with me at night.
he makes love with prose  
and by morning he will not have remembered what he said.
before sunrise,
he falls asleep and i am left with unsaid words.

willingly, ive become his.

i believe that you are too chaotic for me
     but my angels are
      screaming for salvation.

you are my escape under the moon
and a deal with the devil has made
        everything all right.

affront your demons
and instead of letting them insult
your cowardice for not going into the dark,  ask them:
why are they scared of coming into the light?

the mad woman shot the
bare black sky & said “please, goddess of light, can death spring a thousand
red rose petals in my blue dreams?”

your voice provides comfort that
i cannot provide myself.
perambulating on perturbation
due to the lack of words your lips provide now;
resulting in the need for a distraction
such as the stinging feeling of alcohol
sleeping in the cool creases of my heart.
immerse yourself in the hazy feeling of being alone
and
be
content
knowing
that
you
are.