Vilify.
The scorned shush of a teacher,
The little mouths and eyes.
From my mouth flies the liquified hatred.


Vilify.
I, blessed with the sight of a mind.
The spark of life.


My friends shake me violently,
My friends pull me distant. They pull me distant..

(My guardians express)
The facade of lovable interaction.
The parade of peaceful living.


Vilify.
Contorted, writhing.
The music bleeding through, uncomfortable and in position.

The strands of black brush my sleeping eyes.

Vilify.
In the midst of the slow convulsion, I sleep.
In dreams of dark and colors seeping through outlines,
I see ticking, tocking, a king and fox.


Vilify.
The monsters trickle in the stage, and I sing for them.
I amuse them, and they hate me.



Vilify.

The twisting of necks,
It was a dark, dark day.
Their outlines colored neon and screeching.

And in harmony the voices tumbled out of their throats.
“It was like the marble statues could speak” she said, observing the choir of lucid figures.
“What are you talking about..”  My words trailed off as useless things, lacking existence.

Then, they soared in a fountain of liquified color, spiraling towards the nothing.

Lucy’s short hair hung, and moved as if there were wind.
I felt no wind.. Was there something she could feel, and I did not?
Something she knew of? Was all of this making sense to her?

Then, it rained blue. and red. and green and purple..!
And the..tigers flew..in to bestow..a kiss upon the..lips of the..prin..cess..
The panther’s diamonds, at the flash of light, the sparkling sudden..

My sanity became obsolete.
And Lucy and I were free.

You transfix me quite, young child.
And though I find myself drowning in the pit of fire that fabricates your gaze
there isn’t a moment I do not wish I could die in it.
..And let my demise be brought closer and closer to me;
as my skin burns ever so slowly.. until my body is completely engulfed in the fire of your passion.

I love you Jane Eyre.
**** me.

You had tulips and roses,

pansies and jasmines.

You fed them all your attention,

all your love.

You used to say

you could hear the bellflowers chime..

I never found the harmony,

but I encountered the aura that was

your rejection.

**** your flowers.

Water me.

The same boy who injected doubt in me
appeared in an insignificant cloud of life’s happenings.

He had a bad day, he said.

And I was saddened by the lack of devotion in the air,
in his lungs.

He drifted off into the peculiar slumber existing only in the most meaningless of moments, and began telling me of a girl who took his breath away.

I, being the small one, “the lowly peasant” and his majesty would say,
questioned myself again.
” Am I..pretty?” I intended to ask,

My question just barely escaped my lips when the sentence had already tumbled  out of his:


“You’re beautiful.” He said.

And he doesn’t know it,
But it did wonders to my soul.

The circles that throw out of me,
like fragments of useless things,
my vision-
they settle, it’s curtains half closed,
on the sight of the things above me.

They are the collected dust of years and existence,
and I am an observer.

I look at them for a while, and then I go away.

I go away to sleep.
I go away to shut my curtains completely.


But when I go away, I come back.
and things haunt me before falling on the blanketing things that keep me warm.

I am understanding the concept of love.
When you love, you fall.
When you love, you fall.
When I love, I will fall.

My Mother and Father are falling.

But they stop falling when I look at dust.
Everything stops falling
when I look at dust.