Late night hours, paperwork spread on the bed
all this work for a future she dreads

The hands spin fowards, a black and blue picture
all this pressure like an annoyance filled blister

Like my own, she wants reward with no work
ready to spring, but hold back and lurk

This is a short tale, full of too many words
all here to distract you like a drunken zebra herd

All she wants is security and comfort
nothing matters but her kindfolk's support

All she needs is fifteen seconds of embarassing bravery
but with these scholarly shackles is feels like slavery.

The shadows scream like hyenas with excitement,
making sure no one else gets a peak at the demonstration.

A girl being devoured by a wolf can be quite a show.
Her flesh being torn piece by piece,
the results, cauterized skin and scratches that are beyond repair.

Now at war with herself, she starts drowning.
Every night praying and replaying that ****** mess.
A blame game begins.
The fingers being pointed are her own,
towards herself.

Seeking safety in strangers,
smoking reds, drinking box wine and loose lips
led the wolf and the girl to a place beyond the pool house.
A place where animalism was profoundly thick in the air,
penetrating every pore.

Her wounds healed but scars remained.
Did she bring it upon herself?
It is in a wolf’s nature to seek out the weak and put them in their place.
The piercing disturbance brought the devil to play that night.

Waking up to the cold reality.
It’s just a scar,
but it’s enough to keep her going.
Her friends open arms at the end of the race are her last hope,
and she’s clawing her way to the finish line.

your words muddle together like a horribley woven web of broken promises.
but I know the power of words, I am a poet.
Your colloquy is irregular and nonsensical.
your mind can not put together one and two since the cancer knocked him out.
but that does not give you the golden pass to be a trainwreck, with your moods like a train.
stand up for yourself and get your head out of that deep rabbit hole you've stupidly been digging for too long.
help me love life and look foward to my future, instead of stating what is best for me.
strangers walking by have given me more hope in a single conversation than you have.
maybe me wanting to be a hostess is my literal way of flying from the nest, but i'm not afraid to jump.
I'm eager to blindly jump, possibly fall, scrape my hands and keep on going.
I look foward to the day that my flight lands and I will be in a foreign hotel room all by myself.
The true problem I believe is that I am okay with being alone, sometimes all the time.
Never have I found that one person where I would truely be sad to be away from all the long day and night.
There is my true problem.
I do not get close to people in fear that I will become attached and then it will make me crazy when they are not near.
I harden my heart and hurt myself instead of others.
I know how it feels to get slashed down by the saber of rejection or desertion, so why would I ever force that upon another?
I am alone in this world and I am content.
Not happy about it nor am I sad, simply content with what is always going to be.
Do not get me wrong, I do feel emotions, I am not a robot.
I have times varying from complete happiness to absolute blubbering depression.
But other than that I am in a neutral zone of numbness.
both mind and body, completely numb.
My body goes into a sort of hibernation of its own.
where my mind is speeding up but the functions of my body start to slow and fade away.
My life is stuck and often constipated, like I'm am at then end of my road.
I stay in this same motion because I am comfortable and too afraid to leave that isolation blanket that has kept me warm for so long.
There are blips in my life where I feel I found someone worth anything.
Our eyes will meet at a social gethering, we get to talking and then when he leaves, the look he gives is like no other.
His eyebrows furrow, wrinkles lay besides his eyes, his smile makes me feel wanted for once in a long time.
what's bad is that i'm already obligated to another, so why do I want to spend time with this new brown haired boy?
I guess he gives me something my own does not give to me now.
what he gives me is hope. A new light of guidence that carries me on through the current prison in which I am entrapped.
Where I am right now, I still don't know.
I curl up like a baby on my cold bed and sob, wondering what I am doing with my life.
I listen to the music of sugar plum fairies and tin men dancing to calm me down.
I realize that what I want most of all is a dream.
Dreams get you through the rough patches in life.
But that is when it hits me, what I don't have is a dream. I've never been blessed with that gift.
I am okay with that now. Because now I don't have to spend so much time on my dreams.
I get the chance to watch others live their dreams, and that makes me happier than anything.
To watch anothers face light up because of pure bliss, that is my happiness.
I've learned to live through others, and I am content.
I'll be okay.

I remember it was the middle of winter when the family I met became my only summer. The cracks and pops of the exhaust made me so deaf to the common banter, that when I heard this group from across the dive, I knew they weren’t just another group of leather-vested dropouts. Initially it was the liquor store cologne stuck in their beards that attracted me, but I stopped and stayed when they told my back how beautiful blue eyes were. In the few minutes it took to inhale a whiskey coke, they had seen the thirst I had for freedom flowing out of my pores. They said that I reminded them of those dead flies in the corner, turned over and lifeless from the exhaustion one puts themself through when trying to live life so hard and so fast. And they were right; I had made an art out of living fast and crashing hard. When the skin on my palms tore and bled all over the pavement, it was like fine art to any peanut gallery.
    That was the night they taught me to ride. To unpin my curls and let them flow and crash in the wind like a desert ocean. They had found their horizon oasis in me. But Big Jimmy still hated me the most. I knew his secret and he saw that I had figured him out. He was a master at turning his cheap improperly functioning parts into his best character traits. But above everything, he let me learn that the open road will heal any scar.
    I’d been at war with myself. Before I knew that a desert sunrise on chrome was the best alarm clock, I only ever thought that the way I’d wake up was with rushed embarrassment to grab the ***** tip. Big Jimmy weaseled my ****** heart out of my sunken chest, and was gettin’ twitchy now that I had my hand on his. He always said at every pit stop, life was too short for traffic. And when I stepped out of the 7/11 that chilly November morning, I could hear the sounds of distant engines, howling laughter and a single tear hitting the asphalt. I was alone again. But this time, I wasn’t at war.

Frosty the snowman was scarlet stained.
Stripes all across him and the surrounding snow.
Instead of the white Christmas everyone had been wishing for,
It was now a candy caned Christmas.
The smell of pine and turkey dinner ran through the streets.
But when you entered that small yellow house,
it smelled of something odd.
Something off.
In a season where many houses are filled with the joy,
of baby Jesus and his birth,
this house smelled of something different.
Something off.
What was that smell?
All the kids rushed to open their presents.
Wrapped in tissue and ribbons.
Big grand ribbons.
But there was one last gift that had been forgotten.
One last gift tucked far in the back.
The last thing opened was her.
Her red ribbon wrapped wrists.
Merry Christmas.

you will never know of the irreparable damage you have done to me.
you will never know because you have never really looked at me.
you are dull because of his death.
you are dull because of cigarettes burning you from the inside out.
you are dull because of your losses.
you tear into me with your words and then,
you come back minutes later to ask for an apology.
you expect things to be okay but you will never know of the irreparable damage you have done to me.
you make me cry and even question life.
you make me think about wishes I should never wish.
you make me wish it was your funeral I attended 3 years ago instead of his but,
you will never know me.
you have never shown any desire to know the inner workings of me nor do you currently.
how is it that one person can make you both question life and also realize that it is worth living?
you make me realize that there are better people out there.
you make me realize that I don't have to put up with this nonsense.
you make me realize that if I really wanted to I go to the kitchen and get a knife.
you will never know me because I am not an apple that has fallen from your tree.
I am a completely different fruit that you.
But like a fruit, I am beautiful on the outside while slowing rotting from within.
I rot because of you.
Your words.
Your glares.
Your mocking tone.
Your 1950's attitude.
Your actions.
Your presence.
You.
I will never say I love you because that would be the worst lie of all.
You have the same blood as me but that does not make us family, that merely makes us related.

I'm starring at the door, it's twenty past four
and don't see your face anywhere near

Thought this could work, but you were just another ****
I want to run away so bad

I've looked so hard, let down my guard
I've been so crushed, and felt so rushed
Into everything I thought was love
Get out of my face, give me breathing space
Never needed you, always being so untrue
Finally gunna put my foot down and pick myself up
Can someone break out and find me

Trying another man on, but he was always gone
was business really more important than me?

So many times the kiss was strong
like something could happen
but too often it felt to wrong

Always open and exposed
tired of hate
but now I know when a door should be closed

Ancy all night, body always in motion
Mind both calm and rough as the ocean.

I lay here now in my childhood bed
Thinking of ways to turn off my head.

Down my throat goes condensed sandman's dust
Anything to speed up the cycle is a must.

So now I count the seconds on my watch
They help me escape the life I've botched.

Those two baby blues is what my body wants
But in the morning, it's my actions that haunt.

They take me places, and make every sense real
As my body is paralized, I can no longer feel.

I long to give up my two friends that come by night
It's what my body craves, I can no longer fight.

My two blue babies give me so much freedom
They will never deny me entrance to my minds' kingdom.