Praise be to "****."
our national anthem.
Our herald to the sky.
Our call unheard
Un-cared about
Our shred of sanity
when uttered loud at night
Or barely escaping past our lips
Or lost in our eyes locked
upon each others' ever-present
"****."
Our fists through glass
Our blade on skin.
Our true uniting cry.
Our "****."

understand,
(I think you do)
that i need
so thoroughly
dependently
irreconcilably so.
A mind like yours
compliments
and mind like mine
so completely
interchangeably
undeniably so,
that when these
components
combine it
creates
symphony that
can only
crest to
cacophony.

Please appease
i'll drown alone

sitting on my throne
made of verse and rhyme
and wasted time
and cigarettes
and 'buts' and 'yets'
and guitar strings,
engagement rings,
and bad fashion,
unfulfilled passion
and hundreds of miles
and cold bathroom tiles
and dollar bills
and cheap thrills
and glasses of wine
but mostly of wasted time.

Four ones
no nuns
every night
with all my might
cheap *****
to lose
dignity
prosperity
that is all
cause my fall
on my knees
to please
Jesus, God
Oh! ****.

She is bountiful.
look at her
Swollen,magnificent.
Wouldn’t you agree, miss plath?
Miraculous (unnatural).
The most natural
process you’ll ever know.
Tell me, princess,
what is your name.
Tell me, queen,
how did this become
your state of grace.
Let me feel your
life within.
Let me love again
through the most natural process
we’ll ever know.

it's not even midnight yet
and i've smoked my last cigarette
i'm a few shots in
i'm on the borderline of sin
i've been waiting for this night
to call you without fright
to beg you please
let me on my knees
i'm sure you'd elude me still
i'm sure you've simply had your fill.

The white looked red,
I thought to myself.
The white looks red,
I said.
What is that? A cat?
No, a skunk,
though I smell absolutely nothing.
Such beautiful markings,
I thought.
Such beautiful fur,
I'd say.
I wonder if the white really was stained red.
Or if it was just something in my head.