if you only could taste me
now,
my lips would say to yours,
the poetry of
"pancakes with too much butter
slipping off like young men's
clothing"
and
"frigid air before the sun has woken
latched on my teeth like drowning men
holding onto rocks"

you'd ******* dreams
of sneaking out midsummer,
(always my favorite, when nights were merely darker echoes of
the day)
of running down roads with black
feet,
in the disguise of a naked crow.
flying in the heat with a pistol in her black fingers.
that was the first
                      time
                            id
                              ever
                                   dreamed
                                              of
                                                 a
                                                  gun.
i'd swear you'd taste the blood-like twang of fired bullets like shards of metal on my lips, too.

I am the subject

of my own misfortune; the

idle passerby

My skin is eight different kinds of dry
my fingers shorting like circuits
my mind ventured near permafried
but boosts of serotonin were worth it

My hands didn't get enough
of the good time beneath those layers
They were timid and shaky, too coy
for your self-assured bares

I can't paint the picture of you and I
the canvas is blank until colors collide
wide strokes of red to signify the
passion bleeding from my insides

I'm on the edge of my seat
precariously perched
anxiously gripping the edge
of your tousled and wrinkled shirt

I've waited for you to catch on
but oblivion runs deep, my dear
I'll speak my mind, loud and clear
It is you I want; I want you here

I disrespect religion because of
That newborn girl that died
Straight out of her mothers womb.
Shouldn't god have saved her?

If he has such great plans
Then why is there war?
People go hungry
And people are scared,
But god does nothing.

If god is so great
Then why does he let people burn
In misery for eternity
Simply for not believing in him?

He condones violence and hate,
He let his son die,
Because he felt like it.
Maybe he had a hair appointment that day.

If god is so forgiving
Then why doesn't he let people into heaven
That don't believe in him?
Frankly he's holding a grudge.

Equality is what god likes,
But if you're gay,
He doesn't want anything to do with you,
It's a sin supposedly.

God lies,
God does nothing,
God is not real
And the bible is a group of people's
Favourite fiction book.

Why do you love me?
I'm not the girl I use to be.
Why do you care?
You should act like I'm not even here.

I'm not the daughter you deserve,
Or the face you should observe.
You gave me everything,
But I can't give you anything
In return.

I'm not smart,
I **** at art,
I am all things wrong with society,
With this insane anxiety.

I will try my hardest,
But I'm not the fastest.
Not the coolest,
Not the strongest,
Not the greatest.

I'm everything I shouldn't be,
But that's just me.

bored faced, roaming the neon panels
I've got my backpack & wallet
I've got my self

25% off faces looking bored at me
weird convo's about the government
and TV shows litter the bell jar mall

the mannequins look down at me

bored faced janitor
bored faced mom & kids
bored faced teenager working the CD store

the infinity mall echoes
a muffled boredom roar

the mall is everything to everyone
"whatever you want"
"how can I help you"

*I want to go home right now

a miscarriage
a road to nowhere
an ******
a hybrid
a chance missed
a tarantula's kiss

everything's lost
a sea of critique
a man chained in front of the mirror
a priest reciting an unending bible
everything's lost
because perfection is the goal
and failure is the only hope.