"Face it," she said. "You're in love with a psychotic clown."
But what with a face that's not a frown?
While she sits him upon a throne and hands him a crown.
Only his deep spirits could bring her down.

Upon his face sets a wide grin
His true hearts malice lies deep within.
A love like this must be a sin
The love of the Joker and his Harley Quinn. ♥
(And don't call me puddin' )

Oh, to gently enter the water’s embrace,
to be weighed down by
something other than my grief.
The currents look strong, the water rushing
and swirling, voracious in its appetite.
One by one, I drop the flowers into the water,
their petals leave the stems,
they are so bright and pretty against the clear blue swirling currents.
I am on the branch of a tree, gazing down after them,
my ***** blonde hair in my eyes.
Slowly, I prize my fingers off the branch,
and swing my legs over one side.
I jump.
The water is chilling, exhilarating.
I have never felt so alive.
My white dress gathers tightly around my ankles
and I can’t kick them free,
so I lean back, gazing at the green canopy above me,
looking at the bright glow of the flowers
swirling about my head.
Rosemary for remembrance,
pansies, rue and columbine,
daisies, sweet and innocent, like how I used to be.
The water rushes over my head;
I meet my watery grave; I think no more.

how easy it is to write a poem
of unrequited love
an ode to that insatiable hunger
that lives unwelcome in the pit of
my stomach
and slowly eats away at me
gnawing a black hole into that space
an emptiness i couldn't look at
its darkness burned brighter than
the eclipsed sun
who always called with the most
beautiful voice and promised that
if i simply stopped averting my eyes
i would most certainly become one with you
and i forsake my sight
to have your heat
your radiation from all parts of the spectrum
to burn my traitorous eyes right out of their sockets.

how different it is to write
of contentment and perhaps even
a love that i can reach out and touch
without having it sublimate each atom of my being
and reduce me to a radioactive ash
scattered to the wind.

it's a love that i can submerge myself in
it presses in all around and the
mega-Pascals of pressure simply reach
a placid equilibrium with my porous skin
i breathe it in and my lungs
somehow learn to pull the oxygen from
the molecules of liquid desire and vitreous joy
and it fuels my body
infiltrating and inhabiting every cell
feeding my muscles as i
sensuously move my body
fluid as the frigid water around me.

I am a rib
pulled out from your cage.
I am the apple
pressed against your lips.
I am the warmth
within your breath.
The sweet nectar
on your fingertips.
Your heart was made
but your soul was mystic.
The otherworldly flow
of spirit
within boundless space.
A warrior of flesh and blood
inside a
mirror-image
of my face.
"bone of my bones
and flesh of my flesh;"
What is this you have done?
You,
my demise but still
I become the mother
of all the living.
For the dust I am,
I will return.

tonight I am
bound to howl.
this moon, risen
to unearth this
beast from within,
who's laid claim
to its throne
in the darkness
of stars, suns
blinking forever away
in that place
I once loved,
a place I
should never return.