Past the deep Gotham of my eyes --
     The authority of my headache reads
     The graffiti of the prophets -- scribbled
     On the back walls of the train-station:
          
           Commute, work, commute, eat,
           Commute, work, commute, sleep;
           Work  Buy  Die
           And Say AYE-AYE, Sir.

     How many Dear Mr. Heartbreak letters
     Have been etched here -- (I cannot say how many) --
     Deep in the Gotham of my eyes --
     Cold as a city empty of alleys --

     Maybe I'll please the philistines,
     With much talk of good money. I'll study
     Their scriptures about the nonsense of art.
     At last I'll make good --

     I'll finally make them happy.
     I'll try a new part in my hair.
     Maybe I'll put down this pen; stop these letters.
     From now on, I'll express myself in tears.

I seek to come to know the Present by scrutiny, without perceiving
myself to be, at least not here; not here where there's not a soul around, and where day surrounds me in sunlight clear: but the Future becomes born as I seek out the moment I have bound, where I am falling into the depths of Misery, which is and will be, inaccessible to your view on my paths overgrown. Yet o'er tears and reflections I see, reliving my tattered Tragedy within, as I trod the
often traveled moments of my Past --my thoughts are trampled
by my echoes therein.

I seek to come to know the Present by inquiry, without realizing myself to be, tempered by stones and crags, in  the depths of Eternity:
--but the light falters before bursting, scattering upon the Autumn
morn, whereas I harvest my Sadness like a brooding reaper in
Spring, as the Sorrow is again reborn.

I seek to come to know the Present by reverie, without finding myself a being, thru the valleys enveloped in a column of light; and souls encircling me like ivy green, which severs me from a pain that
died, and this time my Happiness is reborn; reborn out of the Gloom, and into the Light that bears my fond memories of yore.

"What do you hide behind your smile?"*
Behind my smile, you'll find the pain of multiple heart breaks.
Behind my smile, you'll find the deaths of people who I still haven't accepted to be gone.
Behind my smile, you'll find an insecure girl who won't allow you to see any piece of her.
Behind my smile, you'll find a lost soul.
Behind my smile, you'll find the millions of times I've said "I'm fine" when really I was in indescribable pain.
Behind my smile, you'll find unspeakable thoughts.
Behind my smile, you'll find the stress of trying to make my parents proud because I'm considered the "**** up" child.
Behind my smile, you'll find my love for sad songs.
Behind my smile, you'll find my love for twisted love stories.

Behind my smile, you'll find things you would never expect.

                                  B.S.

you spoke softly, but your words still broke me.