Maybe I'm not sick enough
Of sad, beautiful girls.

They wear misery so well.
Like pouty lips,
And blushy cheeks.
Swollen eyes,
And little mouth noises-
A siren's call.

I'm a ******* ******* at heart.

It's pretty sick
Of her
To humor me like this.
To let me be the joke.

Doesn't she know
That I would sabotage myself
Just to hear her laugh?
Just to feel wanted?
Just to feel worthy?

Just to make my skin feel bearable?

Doesn't she know
She's the movie screen
I project my affections
Onto?

Sniveling silver.

Doesn't she know
She's my one chance
At feeling normal?

At feeling anything at all?

Doesn't she know
I'm tired?

I don't want to wait anymore.

I'm pretty sick
Of myself.
I need her laughter
To drown out the silence.

I'm so uneasy alone.

Their wet eyes are interchangeable.
A series of lips,
Cooling cheeks.
Blue mouths-
And their captivating sounds.
I laugh.

I'm pretty foolish.
She's pretty sick.

Carpets retain whispered words
in this small room,
witness to kaleidoscope moments
of lives past,
bearing pain and piano notes,
and creaking benches that encourage standing and
moving
on

you see me weak
i give you anything you need...
down on my knees
i held on to his first words
thats all i need....
nice ***, good check and loyalty...

my breath sends clouds back to the sky
while bitter winds pull tears from my eyes.

December is like trudging through each weekend's heavy snowfall
And I'm sitting here aching, awaiting the healing, awaiting your call.

December is like hanging onto a rope too tightly,
When I loosen my grip, you tug again, nightly.

December has me at the end of a yo-yo string,
You drop me and I bounce between yes's and no's that sting.

December did not bring happy holidays this year,
I'm forcing smiles through the inevitable cheer.

December is my broken my heart, a heavy snowfall,
I'm aching, I'm healing, I'm forgetting your call.

i am broken in all the ways you cannnot love
   -*ten words poem

Hope is the truest feeling
Borne aloft on fragile wings
She flirts and frolics in the atmosphere
Where all joy and all love sings

When I loved, dear, when I loved
Hope was a medicine to me
Neutralising the source of pain
And nursing tenderly

When you feel low,
Cross the high moon nearby

When you feel incomplete,
A full moon appears in the Indigo sky

When you feel distracted ,
Sit on the Earth to purify

When you feel doubtful ,
Jot down any feeling to identify

When you feel cranky,
Close both eyes to open your Third Eye

When you feel alone,
Converse with your angels nearby

When you feel weak,
Ask the moon to send Lights of positive stimuli

When you feel disoriented,
Clear your eyes so go ahead and cry

When you feel detached,
Expose your wings that of a butterfly

When you feel low,
Cross the high moon nearby