He was sitting at the bar,
not a nice bar at that,
when she walked in
uplifted by the draft
as she let the heavy door
close behind her
draped in a black dress
with black hair
like a shroud
and pale skin
like bones
she sat two stools down from him
and ordered an old fashioned
and necked it down
before ordering another
and another
and another
losing none of her poise
and no sign of flushed cheeks
she made eye contact with him
and for the first time in his life
he knew fear
and he knew he wanted to be scared

He ordered two old fashioned's
and slid a stool over
and told her his name
holding out his hand hopefully
she took it
with dainty fingers
her skin was colder than the creek
that he had been dared to swim in
during the winters of his childhood
"I think we've met before" she said
a voice like a funeral dirge
"so you must come here a lot" he replied
"you could say that,
or you could come back to my place"
he was more than happy to oblige
together they trudged off into the inky night
and he was never seen again,
and the next night
she was back at that bar
drinking old fashioned's
and waiting to be approached

Young girl with her father's gun
Knew she'd be the only one
To overcome such feats as none had seen
Sunburnt face and endless sky
Shot a bullet, made it cry
Did things that most men would only dream

Ran across the sea to catch it
Bluest blue, no one could match it
Mixed it in the depths of her eyes
Look within and see clouds pass
Smiling eyes on sunburnt lass
Piercing through like a bullet in the sky

Young girl with her father's gun
Quickly, in a blink she'd run
To find the tallest mountain she could find
Aimed, feet planted in the ground
Found her trigger, shot it down
And built a home with stones it left behind

Lived within and put the gun down
Satisfied with what she found
Sitting fireside sipping creamy moonlight
Ire and blue never fading within
Put down only till she'd once more begin
Girl of fabled blue and mountain might

Please,
Do not ask why (I) am sad for I do not know any better then you.
You'll only get annoyed for me not giving you a straight up answer,
You'll only think you (need)to work out a solution.
But please,
Don't tell me that (you) think I'm 'depressed' for I am not- I'm not upset all the time.
I can still smile once and a while,
I might even crack a giggle for a little.
A smile really does have a quiet rhythm to make people stop asking questions,
But at (t)w(o)AM at in the morning when everyone is asleep,
I am alone, -and oh my,
I feel so lonely.
I can't (help) but to get so down that I simply don't know what to do with myself,
I will do anything to avoid the feeling.
So please,
Don't leave (me) alone because ;
(I) (Need) (You) (To) (Help) (Me).

Love is misery
And it is well known
That misery loves company
So why suffer alone?

Love is betrayal
It is a knife in the back
It's a glorified killing
A stealthy attack

Love is dependence
No freedom, no thoughts
It will rip out your spirit
And leave it to rot

Love is enveloping
It embraces and holds
But it easily suffocates
With it's tender folds

Love is a teardrop
Rolling down your face
From sorrow or joy
Or a crude fall from grace

Love is the beginning
The middle, and the end
To take, to leave, to carry
To break or to mend.

To drown in the void; a steadfast oxymoron
But I am struggling to stay afloat
My limbs lack sensation, mockery of my mind
Vocal cords cut, stolen that night in the snow
Carried to the cosmos on an angels back
Helen, how you torment me!
A thousand whispers, torrential and coaxing
To find silence would be all end all; greatest defeat
But what a warrior I found in you,
Quiet and it's little reverie
Infinite; feeling as though I should explode
The quickness of newly discovered emption uncontainable
But in solidation I am weak, without your armed defences
And Helen is touching my skin again

pigtails, tutus, ballet flats
diet at age of six
running, skipping, jumping jacks
did she know what beauty meant?

long brown hair, pretty eyes
gym class, age of ten
stretching, push-ups, two more laps
would she learn what beauty meant?

a boy, a kiss, a little more
life at young 15
sweet talk, smiles, and lots of force
of course she knew what beauty meant

silence, hate, weakness, lies
only sweet 16
binging, purging, swears and cuts
she'd never get what beauty meant.

that night you told me
you weren't very good with words
but all you knew and all you felt
was that you loved me-
that was real.

so tonight when you spit on my show,
you can't blame me for wondering
what it is now that you know and that you feel-
is that real?