I want love-
Not the little love
That makes the
heart skip, and
The face blush.
I want to indulge in the Love
That ignites the Spirit

The love that fills all voids,
Heals all grievances,
And
has no boundaries,
No limits,
And
no preconceived notions.

I want the love
That is contagious by presence.
The love that
eradicates insecurities
And replaces them with ecstasy,
I want the kind of love
That sets people free.

I don't want the love
That beats around the bush.
I want the love that
bangs
down my door,
Sets my heart
a blaze,
And keeps
fueling
the fire.

(You made this monster)

invented by provided feelings of reverence
forced to difference without relevance
with resemblance to hands of elegance
evident difference, deliberate severance

(it is so hard to ****)

envious enemies with torches of treacherous
eloquence lost when pestilence is generous
serpent like in genesis, tenaciously venomous
fighting the exodus against shields of credulous

(and the tower burns)

ignited by chemicals of nominal assessment
tower of suggestion is now infested
where questions and statements are incessant
born by resentment, this basement investment

=====================================================­===

i walk the streets with arms outstretched
never meeting touching grace
i haven't met a decent monster yet
the greenest monstrosity in this place

we are all only pieces left
stitched organs, sewn parts
a dug up heart in my chest
could come alive with some sparks

i haunt these streets of broken dreams
another life to survive
i'm just a being, beyond their screams
it lives, it's alive

I dig a hole in myself
and fill it with words

Rejection is hard, rejection is tough,
Rejection has a way of making you feel like
You’re just not enough
If someone doesn’t want you
Don’t feel second rate
Because inside of us all
Lies something great

I wanted to write a poem about flowers, so that's what I did.
It was short, expressed how I feel, and cut like glass.
I showed my father "Flowers" and he thought it was mediocre.
And I said, "No, "Mediocre" is the poem where I talk about dying,
and I'm trying to stay alive, so I wrote about flowers."

Flowers strangling soil plots with their roots, with their existence.
And to hurt something you love with your existence is a terrible feeling.