You broke my compass.
Don't just stand there,
Pretending you didn't leave
My arrow a mess.

Like you didn't push
Your magnet closer and closer
Until it spun out of control,
Like an ambush.

Like you didn't grind
Your knife into it,
And watch me scream
As we would forever be entwined.

Every time I look down at my compass, you see;
The lost arrow,
And your wicked smile,
Are staring back at me.

I watch my happiness
Flow down the sink
With the Tequila

some days
i wake up
with my feet chained to the bed
i weigh one-thousand pounds

some days
i wake up and i see in black and white
you are whirring, whirring
I can't hear

some days
i wake up and it's a technicolor dream
then i miss the chains
and the fuzzy black and white tv

funny

She is always waiting for me.
Her slithering serpents’ aching to pull me under.
I feel her spiny laughter as I push her into the concrete box of her own making.

I can almost barely feel the chill breeze on my once bound wrists before her villainous cackle chills me through the tomb she is encased in.

I am new to this world of grass and soil that tingles the bottoms of my hardened feet. The warmth from the sky makes me forget her.

But there! She breaks free, standing under the moon’s light.

I stand, frozen, hoping to finally be free from my stony prison and to never see those gruesome eyes again.

But, now, as I look into the eyes I so wish to be free from, I see my own two empty sockets reflecting back at me: unending and unforgiving.