I have twirled into the arms
of a Prince
with a petal-light touch
holding my hips.
He caresses me to the beat
of the breeze of music
that hammers in my heart:
blood pounding with the thrill
of that first night
soon to come but not yet arrived.

The Prince is a surreal, majestic garden-
cheeks warm with the rosy blush
of youthful blooming buds,
eyes like the dawn cascading
light onto wherever he peers.
He peers at me.
And as he leans in,
with smiling dew-sprinkled lips
like grass on a spring's morning,
I realize his arms are vines.


I realize I am trapped.
The Prince is an overgrown garden,
his rosy cheeks are of alcohol
pumping in his veins.
His body sways to beat the howling wind-
the blaring music-
caressing me to the beat
of his own desires.
My refusal is the deafening bloom
of a sunflower in a field of sunflowers-
unfelt.
His lips are soaking in the liquid
that sloshes in his solo cup,
and churns in my rumbling stomach,
a rain that drowned the crop.

My Prince is not just my prince.
He is the Prince of the countless girls
he has swooned before tonight.
As I stumble in his arms,
I am a mistake waiting to happen.
I am a mistake in a field of mistaken female flowers
being entangled by the vines of self-titled Princes.
Tomorrow, these Princes will say
it is my mistake for not raising my fences
to protect myself from the overgrowing garden
that is stretching around me.
Today, my blood pumps with fear
of my first regretful night that approaches
but has not yet arrived.

buried underneath lies and excuses,
denial and obliviousness,
is a truth we hate ourselves for

there's a ***** little secrets
locked in each and every mind
some secrets are light years darker than others
while others drip with pure-pleasurable guilt

we can hide and hide and hide all we want
but just because the truth is out of sight
doesn't mean it's out of mind
we can carry the secret like luggage, day in and day out
it'll weigh us down until our graves
until the day our secret is buried with us

In everything wonderful and perfect
Someone will pick out a flaw


And add it to their own collection

My headphones play the song of your voice
And the words you spoke as I whispered my fears to you.
I find myself tapping my feet
To the rhythm of all love:
Chasing, cherishing, regretting, forgetting
One, two, three, four
It’s a beat my heart has been conditioned to hear
Since my mother taught me the song as an unborn.
Just like her,
I know you’ve kept my secrets secure,
And unlike you,
I have not forgotten our midnight promises.

I can’t help but close my eyes every time I long
To feel the warmth of your smile that night in August.
And there, behind my eyelids
Your image is burnt like a childhood memory
Unwilling to be forgotten.

I stare at what I remember of you as the beat pounds in my skull.
“Forever,” you had said.
“You and me- just the two of us- forever.”
It’s a shame our forever was only as temporary
As your breaths in this world were
And now that I know we were never meant to be
I’ll hold this song inside my head
And your image in my mind’s eye
Until I am forced to forget you

Sore throat

I need a doctor
To cure my harsh words
My screams and past yelling
The worst you've ever heard

Headache

I need some water
To calm the flow of thoughts in my head
I want to close my eyes for a bit
But the words keep buzzing instead

Aching shoulders**

I should calm down, relax for a little while
Think things through, stop being such a child
I need some help to get things straight
But I'm already cracking under pressure
It's too late to bare the weight

The things I did before
Have all piled on me at this moment
And my regrets and mistakes
Are my life-lasting torment

I've shackled her tightly in my mind
Where rationale holds her stern
But when the day wears to the dark
The flame of my Temper begins to burn.

She thrashes free of my restraint
And grabs hold of my wretched desire.
She tears the picture of his face
To throw into the pit of my anguished fire.

He does not think of you, she shouts,
He does not hold you close to him.
And with her fits and pointless cries
I feel the anger begin to dim.

When the light creeps through the curtains,
She begins to tire from state of dread.
I face the sun and truth with a smile
And put my uneasy mind to bed.

when did she lose the grasp on her will?
did she ever have it,
does she want it still?

when did she lose her desire to grow?
did she kindle her dreams,
and blow out her glow?

when did she stop trying to be pretty?
was it when he took her,
when he made her become *****?

when did she stopped caring about her days
were they taken from her,
or did she give them away?