The sun rises,
The sky gets grey.

The internet runs,
The phone dies.

The music blares,
The dark stays.

The shade stays closed,
The door says shut.

There is a reason,
*for everything

If I were to sing a song, I think it would be sad.
And I think, that you would be surprised.
I think you would expect me to sing something happy.
Or funny.
Because I am the calm one, the one with the optimism, who says,
it's not the end of the world, not yet
not so long as we stand together, united
and i do not let you go, because
i won't let you fall off the edge
But the lullaby I sing is mine, not yours,
And just because you still have your hope,
Courtesy, in part, to me,
Does not mean that I have mine.
And thus, if I were to sing a lullaby, I think it would be sad.

He told her she was pottery; a vase with grooves and cracks.
The patterns of the history she hid behind her back.

Within his words he layered in- like thread upon a loom-
The sweetest undercurrent to illuminate that gloom.

In certain cultures, he decreed, when pottery is cracked
They aggrandize them with gleaming gold to bring their splendor back

For they believe, with certainty, once damage has been wrought
Those tiny cracks, now filled with light, hold truths that can't be taught.

Recently I've been told
How great I look
How I've put on a bit of weight
How my eyes don't sag
With rings of sleepless nights
How I look brighter
Happier
"Wow you look great"
That's because I'm fueled by emotion
Driven by heart
I'm learning that I can't
Fixate on the crippling past
And hunny I'm back in action
I'm ready to take life in my hands
And build
Not destroy
So thanks for noticing that
Wow
I do look great

Never in my life
Have I've heard
Anything good
Escape your mouth
In regards to me

I am a **** stained smear  
At the bottom of your loafers
Bird **** droppings atop
Your prized buntal brim

Your eyes for me
Holds no sparkle
Or joy or love
For that matter

Only contempt
At the thought
That I am your seed

You spit phlegm
In spite
Of my existence
A regurgitated reminder
Of you

There are no complexities
In truth of procreation

I am the
Mirrored continuance
Of your self-hate
At war with myself

In a battle
Where no one
The victor

Covered in
**** stained shame
A biblical ***
Resign
To live life
Shunned

At the bottom
Of your
Shiny
Brand
New
Shoes

I'm told I won't understand,
I'm told to go away,
I'm told to leave,
I do without complaint,
I love them for who they are,
I know they do too,
But tell me to go away,
Tell me I won't understand,
Tell me to leave,
You will witness the consequences,
You will suffer the emotional pain that I do,
I will leave,
I will understand,
I promise you this.

I hope you accidently **** in front of your date
I hope when you're on a diet you're still gaining weight
I hope your red shirt dyes your white clothes pink
I hope when you're at the bar you always get the wrong drink
I hope you forget the words whenever you hold a speech
I hope there's no spots left when you go to the beach
I hope you run out of matches when you need a smoke
I hope nobody laughs at your funniest jokes
I hope that when you shave you'll quickly get all furry
I hope you miss the train everytime you're in a hurry
I hope your fruits and vegetables gets bad really quick
I hope your one night stand hasn't showered when you choke on his ****