(shhh its secret but..)
- a nail perfectly holding two surfaces together
- a flower growing from mud
- a **** protesting and growing in that tiny crack
- mould becoming penicillin and saving people
- that perfectly played set of notes
- officially ending another well written book

(don't look to humans
for perfection
there is no such thing
for the likes of us. no
we are all imperfect)

there’s a boy who has my heart,
with gentle hands and gentle eyes,
who loves me unconditionally,
who would give me the world
wrapped up in a pretty box if he could,
whose mouth travels no further
than to my own,
who shows me what it means
to love and be loved.

there’s a boy i see every week,
with dark eyes and hands
that look rough and ruthless,
who shows me that i’m human,
flawed and full of rage, lust, fire,
whose mouth begs to meet mine,
dares me to make a thousand mistakes,
who pushes my imagination
into the most primal parts of my mind.

Draped fabric across ebony skin
blues so bright, even the sky fades its light
nestled over the linen
she glances up
a camera smiling
as she giggles with
embarrassment as she fell
the fall is captured as a moment in
time that will never be
lost.

Chilled wine glass in her left hand
cindarella burning against red painted nails
in the other, looking over the balcony she sits
ponders her day as the night sky
fades to red then a deep pitch black
stars like diamonds in the sky above
crickets among the silence
the only noise she hears
distracted.

Her phone lights up with messages from
the day that, she wasn't able to read
as she skims through, a shout is heard
from inside the hotel room
she drops down the phone, places the glass
to the table, and the lighted cigarette to the tray
more time is allowed some space outside
she finishes her smoke, drinks up her wine
shuts down her
phone.

She smiles to herself red lipstick caresses the glass
like a lovers lips touched
not tainted
bottle in cooler, fills the glass to the rim
her heart is warm, soul content
she knows she is loved
unrequited unknown
for now she has a mind
so occupied it's impossible to
know.

----

"EBONY AND IVORY,
LIVE TOGETHER IN PERFECT HARMONY,
SIDE BY SIDE ON MY PIANO KEYBOARD,
OH, LORD, WHY DON'T WE?"

Paul McCartney and Stevie Wonder

© Sia Jane

Your pale skinned girl
whose roses thorns
pierce, red tainted
cheeks

You take the blood
from her finger tips
pricked, smearing
circles

Bright blue eyes sparkle
akin to, the chandelier
above her willowed out
self

Her eyes always glistened
more when, they were
heavy from always
weeping

Sadness had a taste
salt water falls on open
grazes, where cuffs clasped
her

Today was liberation
sold on from one buyer
to another, man of
taste

Her beauty had a price
she was, the first price sale
this bidding meant a new
dress

Today she was virginal
pure white, floral, leaving
an opened button for the
imagination

He lied about her age
a teenager, he said as
her face smiled, so
innocent

In all truth this girl had been
captured since, her teens
for at least a decade has now
passed

Roll up
Roll up
Next sale
Next girl

How they flock to this
blonde haired girl
not woman, they prefer little
girls.

© Sia Jane

sometimes i feel like i spend
too much time creating
beautiful things
to be beautiful
myself
even if i'm
wasting away
in front of the computer --
-- as my mother likes to say
i'll never be wasted enough
to be considered
a tragic beauty
and the regular kind
is lost on me.

garrett,
did you know that
you were there when the
numbness started?
i looked over to you and said
with him gone
i have nothing
to angst over
you laughed
isn't that a good thing?
and at the time i felt
relieved.

i don't believe in being in love
i believe that there are people i love
and there are people you love
and there are a few people we love
but we will never love
each other
because that's
a fairytale --
-- and everything else in them
was false.

i've got all the time in the world,
and all the tools i need,
to be someone or something,
but depression needs to feed.

i'll surround myself with people,
sweet smiles praise their lips,
i'll pretend to listen to their advice,
but i really couldn't give a ****.

they say they want to help,
but i know what they really think,
that if they say they understand,
it'll help me float instead of **sink.