She's got red hearts everywhere*
A blush here or there,
Never a hair out of place
She's a girl filled with grace
God given love
From somewhere up above
And I know
I could never compare
To her perfect skin
Scarless but plain
Somehow she remains sane
And I'm lost in my thoughts
With hands bruised and bound
Down to my sides
Bleeding from base to tip
My wrist falls limp
Against his grip
And maybe it's meant to be this way
And maybe I'm supposed to go today
And maybe
I don't want this anymore
Because the memories won't fade
From stained cheek with blood rimmed eyes
And maybe I don't want to look in the mirror ever again and see a dead stare
Looking back at me
Because maybe
I don't want to see ever again
I don't want to feel this pain
I don't want to let this heart beat another day
When all I know is
I could never compare to the girl
Who throws her heart everywhere
But still I wish
I could be something worth jealousy
I know I'm worth a grave
Six feet under ground
Where I will never have
To see a dead gaze looking
Back at me..

I copy ****** expressions I see in the movies

I fancy myself a very good liar but who isn’t these days

you make promises from the bottom of your heart
but it makes me wonder just how deep that is

I try to dig
but all I hear is the echoing of sweet words off this tunnel

You tell me to cut people out of my life and I do
I peel them off like a second skin and leave them bruised

I tell you please don't talk to her
On paper it appears you don't
But you jump to defense every time I quietly say her name

I saw you liked her pictures on my news feed
Even though you unfriended her a week ago

You say you let her go

It appears you are letting her in

He is an incredible actor.
Softly he rests around my neck,
Before rotting like an albatross,
Weighing down my neck.

He is heavy like air,
As God wishes,
I will suffer his hand.

My over textile obsession,
does not even flinch.

I have not felt as if my role plays into gender, yet I neglect the idea of set standards to which 'common' 'civil' people suggest to be appropriate dinner conversation.

Humanity is a course.  The path from chaos to order and order to chaos.  Each human burns like a star, and just like the galaxy, there will be collisions.  Controlling that creates the need to have an accepted way of life.

I am not guarded, I am precise.  I give all I posses to those in need and refuse to be taken from.  Diminished.  I am not heartless, I see the way.

I feel no shame in my rugged frame, and praise the build of my character and virtue.  Determined. Every-flowing.  Like water.

You can't dilute it.  Drop ink in water, in a few moments you will not see the pigment.  Yet it lowers its quality, its ability to be consumed as a life source.

When people recklessly posses the emotions, the ability to create and destroy- View it as a gift, not an arsenal.

An immense cloud passed over our fraction of the sun and the rain fell heavy. It struck the streets.

This day, I was curling my toes around the filth.
My keeper screams at me.

And she-she stares at me.  Through a frown tacked to the corner of his bedroom mirror.

"You don't write, you whine, set that pen down."

He sits on the edge of this cushion, and the mice sleep in the stove.