Call me Ramona and **** me senseless.
It's a name for wearing your hood up
regardless of prevailing weather conditions
Changing your hair for something to do
Skipping every song on shuffle after 30 seconds
For being lonely
For hating the company of everybody
including yourself.
A name for indulging poisons-
what's a little more when you're already toxic?
Call me Ramona,
it suits me.

She wanted to write a poem
to sort out her head
and make sense of her life
                .  .  .

something about drowning...
and how living is a reflex...
...disappointment ...   lines...
and how .... they're definite...?

But it didn't ******* work
The End.

An intimation
of trouble brewing, looming
between our two hearts

It feels better
than space-cakes
You're spotlit
in my sight
When we
are 'we'
we're so fine

It's not
special
you're not
special
we were
never special
It just felt
that way
for a time

Now I
close one eye
find you
diminished, dry
Then
the other- you're
special, mine

The inside
of my head
is winking
And I still
can't see you
in 3D

              Misaligned