it is not butterflies you placed in my tummy,
but large ferocious birds,
with wingspans fluttering against the inners of my
lungs,
beaks prodding my intestine,  
their necks snarling with my esophagus.
their caws pulsate in and out my pores,
and these birds want to fly, fly, fly
towards you.
but i bite with anxious molars, and their blood tastes like
cranberries.
choking up red soaked feathers,
i wonder if you have birds
too.

The problem with being the strong
one is that people forget
that sometimes you
need a hand
to hold
too.

One day, you will be
gone.
We’ll stumble upon
each other on the street.
But I won’t know
you,
and you won’t know
me.
Maybe I’ll give you a
nod,
and perhaps you’ll say
hello.
As we walk on by,
neither of us will look back.
‘Cause all will be
gone.
When she asks you who
I am,
you’ll say:
«oh, just someone I once knew»
Holding her hand a little
tighter.
Just like that, we will be
gone.
All the fragments of everything
that used to be
alive,
will be washed away,
like patterns
in sand. 
And it will all be
gone.

Memorized by a vacant lot. At the edge of an abyss. Darkness is solitude. Solitude for a crowded my mind. There is no break for a mind. Constantly crunching away at what is reality. The concept of nothingness makes the mind clock overtime. Are we creatures of logical limitless. Or finite beings who cant grasp that nothing is infinite. We are here to observe. To learn. To yearn. In search of a purpose. In search of anything that keeps us from thinking we are worthless. We are creators. We are makers. We are breakers. We are fakers. We are individuals. We are imitators. I am you and you are me. One in the same. On an even plane.. on a round earth. We are haters. We are lovers. We are creatures of similarity. We are creatures of contrast. Idiosyncratic nuances that make us a so far apart but so alike. The performer with a mic. The crazy man on a soap box. The angry in jail. The stoners in a hotbox. The gated community members. And the thieves breaking pad locks. The rich and the poor. The nun and the *****. The killer and the doctor. The lover and the boxer. All so far apart yet always united with a common theme. One in the same. He is her and she is him. Cell by cell. Limb by limb. United until every atom that we were connected through is torn away into nothingness. Vacant lots at the edge of an abyss.

You want to push,
and shove,
and scratch,
and claw.

If you think I,
won't fight,
right back,
you're wrong.

I will make sure,
you feel,
the pain,
you dealt.

I will make sure,
you feel,
the pain,
I felt.

You cry,
and beg,
and weep,
and plea.

But I,
will show,
you no,
mercy.

You can't,
just take,
a heart,
to break.

I won't,
let you,
take me,
for-granted!

I've been broken down before,
treated like **** and nothing more.
But I won't let you get away,
I won't let you take my heart.