She knelt and she pleaded
For a world of peace
She knelt and she pleaded
To save a friend in need

She fought for what is right
While giving all her power and might
Yet there's still the anger
Gripping her tight

It hurt her
To see how her world is fooled
By a prideful man
Who continues the feud

She has accepted the offer
Of death itself
For she knows who she is

And she is the **Mockingjay

Sometimes, I wonder
Is reality real?
Is reality a dream?
Perhaps, with a turn of the wheel
A fantasy it may seem

We wake up
We live
We go back to sleep
Endless and passive
If it were real
Such monotony surely will seep
Through the bars of life
And reality will drain away

Leaving nothing
But an empty dream to sway

You took me stumbling to the elevator
Into my dorm, it was not even nine

I put on a movie
we kissed- hard

I laughed
you unbuttoned your blouse

I was below you
and I asked, "What should I do?"

You said, "Take your pants off."
so I did.

The ****** was on
and I was still laughing

Then it was happening
inside

I laughed during
I finished

I stood up, "You should go."
you left

On my comforter
you left your mark

Blood stains as big as my head
that bleach could not remove

I was drunk
you were sober

Was your first time,
"special?"

Here she comes walking
The silent steps that hover on egg shells
Velvet incarnation
Her every word is where my mind dwells
There she goes walking
My body must be made of glass
Her eyes stay set forward
and I shatter with her pass

Truth be told, I was skeptical.
Was this worth the cowry shell equivalent?
My mind was a dry skin covered foot caught on a fleece blanket.
My tongue, lined with the taste of that earthy bile.
Distant isles between Alaska and Ayahuasca,
but it all comes rushing back. Jungle visions.
-
I
        take
                    ten
               ­              sickly      
                                          steps
                ­                                     toward
                                                          ­         the
                                                             ­              teetering  
                                                     ­                                      ethereal
                                                        ­                                                  edge.
-
She's once again lined with that finespun glow.
I'm once again letting the little things go.
She's letting me know for the very first time.
I'm struggling to find words for the very last rhyme.
-
                                        Trudging
       ­     tip-toed
through
                                           ­                       the
                  nonlinear
      narr­ative;
                                       elegantly
                                                       ­     elephantine.
-
Lick your wounds, traveler.
Set your eyes to the pale star's gleam.
Dogma unraveller
with an elementary scheme.
We are nature's instruments.
We are watchers in the night.
Softened slightly by the dissonance
of the dearly departed Wight.
-
He's slipping in and out.
Orbium linguam avium.
Labra lege: hic sunt dracones.
Let us dine on cremated elves.
-
     m sw ll   w  ng sw rds   nd st rs.
R zn hdzooldrmt hdliwh zmw hgzih.
I a         a  o   i          o      a         a  .
I am swallowing swords and stars.
-
.ecnatsbus em evig dna eniltuo ym nekraD
.savnac eruza siht otno seye s'ti tsac dluow nuS eht hsiw I
?suhpysiS fo redluob eht I mA
.noitcerid gnorw eht ni gnilbmut no peek I
-
We're sailing on the calmest of waters,
but there is not a drop to drink.
Bad news for the boy who only rejects omens.
I will not hang a dead bird around my neck.
Retrace the lace and my hazy days of habit,
then let me know your honest opinion.
Exhibit an execution by exsiccation of the most exuberant exiles.
Or am I the only one who's thirsty?
-
                                                      ­                      Who here is the ghost?
I know **** well it's not me.
                                                             ­                            Who said that?
I know I did.
                                                            ­                                        Didn't I?
Couldn't be.                                                              ­            
                                                    ­                                                    Am I?No.                                  
                         ­           Hopper, this isn't sinking in.
I am not a liar.
-
0111011101100101

011000010111001001100101

01101111011­100100110011101100001011011100110100101100011

011011010110000101­1000110110100001101001011011100110010101110011
-
I was supposed to be writing something down.
Some kind of secret; some kind of rune.
Can you help me find our primal core?
Your carnal truths are mine to keep.
Weren't you supposed to be going somewhere?
The flea burrow, no, The Doubling House.
For in those halls of mold and paper walls
your memories were uneagerly forged.
It's time to shed your summer skin
and begin to eat with your hands.

A certain comfort exists in sadness...  
when that sadness leads to numbness.
When the sadness finally covers you completely,
like slowly slipping into a warm, deep pool.
You cannot see anything any longer.
You cannot hear anything any longer.
And finally, all fears are trivial.
Sadness deadening your heart to all other forms of pain....
like a protector.
What a sweet release.....
when your mind finally ceases to worry about anything.... anything at all. And all that exists is the deep pool of sorrow, that covers you ...
and cradles you to sleep under a blanket of earth,
and under a lullaby of the sound of a beating heart,
slowly ending its song.

You slipped out of my hands,
Glass shattering on the ground,
Spred out into a million pieces,
You and me,

Polar opposites that no longer attract,
And two contents drifting away from each other,
The cold water in between,
That not a sole would to dip their toes into,

For you were shy,
and I was just me.