I value disappointment.

It is real.
It is kind.

It is the one thing that hasn't lied.
It is the one thing that will make you cry.

Sigh.
It will even make you fight.

Why fight?
Why?

Why try?

Jokes are funny, so is truth.
So I guess we'll be here long,
in this bordered booth.

We Talk.
You Gawk.

Little secrets make there way.
The voices make you sway.
Even run away.

Did you hear?
I value disappointment.

(December 2012)

Horchata, please?

I can't help but to think that this is where you be, with me, in the evergreens...
Lazy,sipping tea, and some horchata please.

You like it rough, i like it clean.
Our lives shriveled.
Everything some fickle dream.

Nightmare how are you today?
You left me waiting on the slowly rising bay.

I drown.
You die.
I live.
We cry.

We're over in the beat of a drum.
I find the punishment you have done.

You lie.
You lie.
You lie.

Yet the truth is never true,
The wrong never wrong.

Someone else meets tampered weeps.
Another one happy.
Perfect.

Nothing pulled through her seams.
Nothing lurking through her teeth.

She has rung.

Ring.
Ring.
Ring.

Answer her, before she leaves.

(December 2010)

Fingers touch and recess into the seams
Jackets torn by the leafy green
Thorns picking at the bending legs
Faces tilting in a certain way

Kinder looks seen before
On the faces that we adore
But now distraught is shining through
Worries fading into the blue

The sky colored waves washing over
The antsy thoughts still in the covers
Two lovers
One hovers
Two kisses
One listless
The second…

The second puckered touch
A wish that is becoming much
The prize and the rise of a tiny girl
A morning gesture in the judge filled world

(July 2010)

Happy trees
Squirrels that breath
Fish that scurry through the sea

Happy Goose
Don't be so used
As to make you light a fuse

Baby boys that follow through
Birds that shatter though the roof

In my life they tear apart
whatever left of a beating heart

Death.
Destruction.
and Despair.
Triple threat rolling through my hair.

I write of boys laughing close.
Girls waiting for those boys,
In silly pose.

Stand still they do.
Stand still we do.

Happy trees,
You know the most.

You would think it would make more sense to enjoy what is around you.
I do. I promise you. I very much do.
But why is it that this mind works so fast?
Not just me.
But yours?
Can you not see?
Hear?
Touch and feel every single ray of light?
It's loud with a decadent cry.
The cry that will very soon subside.

Why is it though that I find it so hard to accept?
How happy I am. I assure you.
Scout's honor and no regrets.
But you must admit.
There is much for one to fret.

How do you do it?
How do you smile all day long?
I smile. They love it.
But that smile I wear is just a sarong.
It's there I promise.
But so is the tampered song.

I sing a lot. You wouldn't know.
But some of these things I write.
Well, they're songs.
And I want to say pretty good ones.
To me at least.
That's all that matters. (Not to say you aren't amazing.)
You are and that is a verity.

But sometimes there is much too much in a "we."

I don’t know how to start this. Or why I did. I just know I want something. Something much more than what He gave me. I want to start over. ****. I want to stop *******. Fuckkk.

Ha if only, if only.

I love Him. I love Her. Who is this? Who is it at the door of all my transgressions. Who will be the man to carry my pain, to put it over his shoulders and tell me, “it’s okay. You aren’t insane.” Yet.

**** me.
**** me.
Tuck me into the covers of your love, despair. 50/50 chance at whatever you choose. 50/50 chance to win or lose.

Close minded individual.
I see it in your visual.

Nothing more is seen than what is near
Nothing more is seen that you can fear.

“Ignorance is bliss”
So true is that deceitful kiss.
Paradox is fine,
Its my kind.
So sweet that lie of life being pure.

Life being,

Good.
Better.
Best.

Nothing like some rest…

(December 2011)

I think I'll write a paragraph.
A poem, I'm not so sure.

Of being happy
with my mother
as she told me love comes first.

Of being happy
with my sister
as she took back that colored glare.

Told me they were sorry
nothing else is there.

Nothing else but time gone past
a diamond, and a jewel.

...

I want to tell them.
I'm Pathetic.

I want to tell them.
that I Regret it.

Every word That I have ever said it.
said those lies that just weren't true.

I want to tell you,
that there is love.

and that most of all,

i
am
the
fool.

(A poem I did write.
Huh, such a tool)

The word rose is so beautiful.
So striking.
Literally.

The rose and its thorn.
It ****** the edges of your heart.
No choice but to love.

(December 2012)