The wings of the sow, they bled with tire
and wear and love that did perspire
in bold red beads across her back
where feathered things did slake and slack.

But fly she wouldn't, for fear of life
and judging, based on that stereotype.
So if you chance to see her now,
she'll be naught but a flightless sow.

I wish I had a one and only.
Like, the one and only to rule all one and only's.
A best friend. Someone to love.
Someone to tell everything to,
Someone to hold and who will hold me.
I wish I may, I wish I might.

I wish I had the gift of inclusion.
Like, inclusion into all groups and areas ever.
A free entry card. An easy pass.
Somewhere to call home,
Somewhere to feel free to be me.
I wish I may, I wish I might.

I wish I had the heart they say I do.
Like, the heart to trump all hearts.
A caring heart. A selfless heart.
Some way to stop hurting,
Some way to stop thinking.
I wish I may, I wish I might.

I hate feeling like I'm dropping bombs.
And it's always on someone who doesn't deserve them.

You never asked for me to confuse you or to make you wonder how to put your feelings into words.

And Im so sorry I would ever even deign to pressure you.

Don't associate with me.
I'm toxic.

I'd like to pretend for a moment that I was a poet.

My words could mesmerize
and my glance could be seen to be more philosophical
than Socrates and Plato bound together
in chains of writing
and time

My very breath would wisp along the lines of insanity
and my heartbeat, keep time with the frenzied
dance I keep my toes working through
on this tightrope
I have strung
so tight and high

And my heart?

It would be taken.
And it would be happy.
And not confused.

I wonder what's for dinner.
I loved that steak we had the other night.
Well, kinda loved. I don't eat much anymore.
Maybe I can finally fit into those Guess jeans since I've lost so much weight.
I mean, it IS picture day tomorrow.
Oh God, what am I going to do with my hair?
I'll curl the top maybe.
She said it looked nice the day I did that.

Ah, can't think about her/it/that.

Do I have any homework left?
I don't think I do....
My planner only lists things due Thursday.
That reminds me, I have to come in early Thursday,
I have to meet with a teacher on the third floor.
That's close to her locker.
Maybe I could say hi.

No, no, no. Concentrate.

Okay, so outfit for tomorrow!
Picture day always comes around so fast.
So I'll wear those jeans- they fit now-
and maybe that white top.
Does it look good?
Maybe I should ask someone.
Her opinion matters the most to me.
What would she think?

No, I'm not going to bother her.

I'm so tired.
Life is just tugging and tugging at me.
I don't even feel like me anymore sometimes.
But I feel more than like myself when I'm around her.
I feel alive.

So just this once, I'll let myself dwell on her a bit.

*It's crazy that it only takes one person to make me feel truly alive.
And that person isn't me.

I won't ask for much.
Just a head to confuse,
a phone to blow up,
a heart to scar,
and a mind to blow.

Nothing crazy.
I want to be in love with you.
I want to fall deeper than I'm already falling.
And trust me, seeing my thoughts as they are now,
that might be an almost impossible feat.
Gravity has nothing on this.

So tell me exactly, when?
Why?
Maybe.....
...please?

Ignorance filters through the air likened to a plague
as the screens fill the silence
with plasticized glowing.

What adventures are we missing?
Ivanhoe, Dunsinane, Middle Earth?

Between the pages of our very busy lives, we miss
the written out thought processes that inquire
after why exactly we are so hellbent on
radiating our only pair of eyes out of our skulls
with the futile use of nonrenewable energy.

How is it that something so natural, so ******
between the lines of our genetic makeup
can be filtered out all within the means
of a filtered lense and a shining
artificial light?

I digress.

What if I were to tell you that what I deserve
makes up only a pinch of
you that makes up
you?

One day, perhaps, I can show you
what exactly it is that makes
you so alluring, so
you.

But until then,
arms. Please.
Only the arms from
you.

In the silence, there is a sound.
Nay, it cannot be heard
by the naked ear
but rather by
the naked eye.

In the darkness, there is a light.
Nay, it cannot be seen
by your barren eye
but rather by
the passers by.

Watch your love, and watch your life
For in itself, beauty's strife
will take a hold
on your lowly, downed life.

Unfiltered lenses cover eyes
create a day where no one spies
on hearts of truth and hearts of lies
no one hurts and no one dies.

Beauty is in the unseen, unheard.
And one day, one day
more lessons shall be learned.

Hello, and welcome to my personal wormhole.
My depths of despair,
my heaven,
my escape,
my life.

Your terminology may vary.

But read yourself into the depths of your being when you see this:

My life. On a screen. On a page.

It may not be pretty, and it may be written like the homework of a kindergarten child in need of a penmanship lesson.

But here it is.

Enjoy my experiences, scream at the agony, laugh at the joy, all of it is here.

You once told me you could read me like a book.

Now is the time for you
to be checking
your answers.