I've found myself
Cramming
Each shattered piece of my heart
Into your old tshirt
In a desperate attempt to hold myself together.

was
on the evening
of the harvest moon
neurotic tensions
whirling
everything just
stirring  
dreams as visions
come without sleep
and i fall deep
into a cesspool of
cerebration
and the grisly truth
that accompanies
thankful that only
the coyotes may hear
the loud cries
of a broken woman

When we make love,
her tongue recites
and brings to life
the sweetest of poetry
between my thighs,
just below my hips,
stumbling beautifully
from her cherry red lips.

She writes beautiful poetry
Experiments with form and content

Many styles, many ideas
Some vivid, few abstract
but none mediocre

She's the Queen of Haikus
Scored a century recently

I drank a bottle of blissful yellow paint
Lured myself with the calmness of blue
Drowned myself into a pool of thick red blood

And I found myself, staring at your eyes
Because, love, I realized, it is where my palette lies.

Wise words float in and out of my mind
Like water falling from the sky,
Until one day it dries up,
And the skies are clear and blue today.
Just blank.
I find it darker than those creative storm shades of grey.

She grew tired of her thoughts
and the weaknesses they had found,
So she flicked her embered cigarette;
and burnt them to the ground.