Luscious swirl colors
Sunlight reflecting off of
Rainbow jeweled depths
White cotton absorbs the laughter
In banded, restricted patterns
Blue lazy afternoon
Pink sugar candy
Green that's not so easy
Indigo spot light shining
Mimosa bubbles fizz with comedic intent
Juicy honey bells spiking my taste buds
I soak you up, great God of life
In turn creating sacred geometric love
On simple fibers

No matter what I do
I can't stop thinking of you
You say we are still friends
Yet my mind won't cleanse
Thinking really bad things
Pulling on my heart strings
Do you even want to talk to me?
Am I someone you even want to see?
I don't know anymore
You're still someone I adore
I know it is a rough time
I don't even want to rhyme

I know it is a rough time
And I will still be your friend
Nomatter what happens

I will be there for you
I know your feeling blue
I will be there to give you a hug
And make sure you feel snug

Until you feel
Safe in my arms

I'll be there for you
Until you're happy
It does not need to be with me
Where ever you feel
Safe and happy
I will try my hardest
To help you
All the way there

A bee tapping against the glass
No way out no way in
As the flowers remain outside
And I remain in
Their vibrant colours haunting the
Polygonal patterns of my eyes
As the bee thump thump thump's
It is helpless to the taunting house
Soon it will curl up on the window sill
When it is tired and out of breath
And so will I

Falling in love is as
beautiful as watching
the sun shining on the rain
in Spring
An ineffable yearning,
Is serendipity,
A blissful sorrow,
Is not lucid.

Falling in love is  
picking shards of
broken glass knowing
you'll bleed,
Is a veritable tornado,
The eye of a hurricane
flattening everything in
it's path
And it doesn't abate


It's roller-coaster you must ride

Only to throw up after.

Boiling.
I had a fever dream of being
meat in a self perpetuating
grinder. For a second
I could be
tender,
but I am made of bone,
and skin and little blood.
Brick by brick,
you've built me into
something less.
Crafted me into weightlessness,
so when I say death is my front door
and I sleep on the welcome mat,
sleep is like the police and you
are a parent strung out on smack.
I stomped on you in the clouds
where you broke three ribs.
I kicked your teeth in; heaven
came from your guts up to
the bottom of your tongue.
However, you have flesh, and fat,
and cartilage, and nail, and hair,
and willed me to sleep with less than
a flick of your porcelain wrists.
I am made of bone.
Eventual and useless.
Boiling.