You're watching, judging, and assuming
You don't understand why I do what I do. 
Why I obsess over little things.
So stop trying to
The world is my oyster
But without the beautiful pearl
Just a plain old shell, in a plain old world

It's a shame you'll never know the brilliance
All you're capable to understand is the madness.
Insane, sane
Heart, or brain
Ferocious , tame
Take two breaths and stop breathing all together.
Turn your self to useless energy, forever.

Welcome to mind of the mad.
The queen of the asylum
A dapper old castle in the brain of a girl.
Who is tortured yet pampered in her own little world.

solivagant (adj.) (english) wandering alone

Solivagant Traveler

Lost in a desert where affection is the water
I can't decide if its's been months, or maybe longer,
Since I laid my eyes upon you,
Or the mirage I perceived you to be.
As if you were a cactus who's affection is guarded,
by skin too sharp, and thick to bleed.
Sitting in this plateau surrounded by drier things,
dead plants and dusty bones.
A solivagant traveler is what I'll be.

Beautifully
             Insecure
Freely
             Bound
Confidently
               Invisible
Positively
               Negative
Lovingly
                Hated
Unbreakably
                  Broken

Every piece of me you think you've figured out,
I'll show you how it should look.

Not extended, edited, or pondered about.
Just a character in a book.

I Can Smile, But Not be happy
I Can Cry but because i am angry
being lonley,like im drowning slowly
hard to breathe as my heart rushes to catch up to my thoughts
i feel the cold rush down my neck
 i can feel you creeping
all your eyes watching as i drag my feet and trip along the road i used to skip down.
the only place ive been hurt like this in this town.
the sneakers that squeak as mine are silent.
the clothes that still smell like the stores, mine the same as they were.
the same everything. i wake, i struggle, i push, i shed but one tear
and tear apart everyone else to protect myself from everyone.
i wish of the things i wish i had. of what i wish i was. of what i wish i wasnt
and whisper into the trees and grass how much i miss you and everyone else i have lost.
screaming at people who i never should have, loving people i know will hurt me.... unless i hurt them first,
so many first kisses and first girlfriends i have ruined...
so many inults that i said out of a place in my heart that is cold as ice and hard as stone. afraid everyone knows the lies ive told. to create this persona that makes me less of a lame, shame, untame dissapointment of everyone who is related to me....
Let me start over.
let me be the one who never lies.
let me be the one who didnt have to say that they hate someone.
let me love everyone including myself.
Look at me without shame Mom.
look apon me without disgust father.
for i am your baby girl. i am the baby you nurtured into the monster you call a daughter......
no mas no mas mother.....
i am not what you have raised
i am a near blemish in your imperfect yet perfect life.
as we stare each other down from across the table i see the dissapointment in your eyes...
the instructers see the lie they call potential...
i am  just a shadow in  the glory of the boy.... just a twinkle in the firework of YOUR life.
and as i begin to fall to my knees with pain and anger
i think of the people i hurt and wish they could watch me slowly fall into a deep pit of darkness and hate,...
i will sleep to the sounds of their giggles 
since i danced to the sound of their crys.
Ill continue to disappoint those around me.
im sorry for the pain and stress mom. 
Im sorry for the tears and fear mom.
this is me.
oh so terrible
unforgivable
broken
shaken
shattered
me.......

You had me watching your mouth verbatim.
The way your lips formed the words I could hardly focus on,
because the corners of your mouth curled in a way I haven't yet seen.
Our adventitious exchanges were works of art,
painted by filthy minds,and fueled by my own flushed face.

murmurer à moi, mon cher

I'm taken aback by your quips,
and how easily they make me want you.
I'd be lying if I said that you saying my name
didn't make me think evocatively,
    of what would happen, were we ever alone.

*murmurer à moi, mon cher

Like no other, it cares
Not always seen, but always there.
Complimenting words as if they were looks,
Such a great way with words, they belong in books.
Expressing their love and woe,
Though often cursed by crows.

A thousand miles or a couple feet
Something great happens when two writers meet.
They talk and talk, pretending they don't know
The secrets that their stories both told.
As they speak, they are mesmerized by how words dance out
Of each others soft spoken, but sometimes harshly written, mouths.

They hope they can memorize how words were said,
So that they could recite each others poems in their own head.
A writer's affection is like no other
And one complex talent, keeps it all together.
It will write you letters, and cause a drumming chest.
Take your breath away, and rid you of a mind's mess.

A letter for him, a letter for her.
A Writer's Affection,
a blessing and more.

How is it that your cigarette kisses
Are the sweetest I've ever had?
I'm always drawn to you.
My cynosure, you are.
Our dalliance is a thing of lust
But your hands' presence won't wash off.

When I brood here in my room,
All I can recall is your becoming face
And the way you lay, oh so comfortably.
Every entrapping thing you do seems so effortless
And I find it difficult to even kiss the thought
Of you having any trouble with eloquence.

habromania (n.) delusions of happiness

You've made me favor the silver moon over any other source of light.
The way it's beams shot across your back
and how it illuminated the greenest eyes.
It's evocative showers of white,
ethereal light coasting upon our lives and erstwhile,
I was thinking about how false this all seemed,
how unreal it had to be.
My joy was brought upon by some mellifluous boy who,
on my bad days I saw as some demon of my life,
and on the good days, my only savior.
Was I- *am I, truly happy?
Or is this just another lucid dream?

*Habromania

Maybe its the way you walk
or the way your eyes make me think.
How you say my name,
or maybe how you make me shake.
I'm not sure how you do it,
but you're on my mind a lot
making me forget my own name,
making me lose my train of thought.

Your lips,
I favor over all the rest
but what I love most of all
is laying on your chest.
Maybe it's the way you make me feel
when all you want is a kiss.

Your kisses devour me and I lose what control I have,
giving myself to you is what my body needs.
And so I plead, and plead, and plead for you to take me,
to make me feel alive again,
to pump life into me over and over
until I am overwhelmed with the serenity of this moment.

Maybe it's when I'm walking there beside you.
Your hand grazing mine,
making sure to bump into you from time to time.
You bump right back and shoot me a grin,
wrap me up in your arms in a hug that never seems to end.
You kiss me over and over on my neck, lips, and chin
until you whisper in my ear
"I don't want this to end."

Maybe it was the way I walked, Or the way I said your name..