I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

candles of fire and flare
balloons float high in the air
their way of showing me
they finally care

the end of the rainbow
my soul now knows
the end is like the ballon
I've seen where it goes

doves fly peacefully
protectively on my side
I lay asleep
Eyes wide

I dance and giggle
as people cry and wiggle
life was complicated
death was simple

violas laid on my grave
tombstone reads:
no longer a sinner
no longer satan's slave

Loneliness is a bane
All my life has gone in vain
Left behind with solitude
Which is my companion till death
Come death embrace me in your arms
Whisper to me the silent song
Take me to the land of eternal love
Where i shall be found by the name
DEAD POET !

O sing a new song, to our God above,
Avoid profane ones, 'tis for holy choir:
Let Israel sing song of holy love
To him that made them, with their hearts on fire:
Let Zion's
sons life up their voice, and sing
Carols and anthems to their heavenly king.

Let not your voice alone his praise forth tell,
But move withal, and praise him in the dance;
Cymbals and harps
, let them be tuned well,
'Tis he that doth the poor's estate advance:
Do this not only on the solemn days,
But on your secret beds you spirits raise.

O let the saints bear in their mouth his praise,
And a two-edged sword drawn in their hand,
Therewith for to revenge the former days,
Upon all nations, that their zeal withstand;
To bind their kings in chains of iron strong,
And manacle their nobles for their wrong.

Expect the time, for 'tis decreed in heaven,
Such honor shall unto his saints be given.

Everyone always tells me how lucky I am.
How I have so much ahead of me.
How I'm so pretty,
So smart,
And so funny.
But I look at myself and see nothing.

I see an empty,
Numb,
Tired,
Bitter girl.

They say it gets better.
But so far,
It's all been down hill.
Like an avalanche.
A personal avalanche.

So tell me,
Am I really lucky?
To be born in this death trap of a life?
Am I lucky to never sleep?
To be constantly afraid of what might happen?
To be so numb?
To have so much hate?

If this is luck,
Then I'm sorry for all of the other lucky people.

People always say:
"To find where your heart is,
look to where your mind goes when it wanders"
But when I look to where my mind goes,
All I see is chaos,
And destruction.
Is that what I really want?
To be torn apart?
Day in and day out?
Maybe my mind is confused.
Maybe it can only see what it's fed by the media.
Or maybe that really is where my heart is.
People ask if I'm scared by that.
I always say no.
But deep down,
somewhere I won't let see the light.
I'm terrified of the real me,
So I'll stay hopeless.
Still searching for more

I wrote this for you a long time ago on a coffee stained napkin, after you left me, full of love, lingering in a cafe.

"For you, in all your follies and faults and the way they make you so perfect for me.
For you, in the moments that linger in the vehemently insignificant corners and corridors of things, as if drifted of their own grandure.
For you, for the words that spill to the floor and the brilliant way you understand the deafening silence that follows.
For you, for your supernovas and clever shades, for your daylight smiles and nighttime skins.
For you, for your familiarity and the impossible truths that stand as martyrs to say that I have loved you before.
For you, despite the treachery and quiet sinister fun of the world.
For you, for making me so terribly scared of dying."
Yet here I am, in your wake, so full of so many thoughts and demons. Know that I have died, that I have loved and lost with equal measure.

She's dark, yet
moonlight glows
inside her soft-eyes
& despite her
tragic-aura,
I still want
her blackness,
to taste her magic,
to kiss
the devil inside her.