Breaking free, cunning ruse
Established to free us from the truth
Can we see? Or is sight blind?
Will we forgo what is left behind?
Can one go back? Can it be undone?
If we're scared can we turn and run?
Which is our reality?
Fighting figment fantasy?
Is it cold and dull and stark?
Til death do leave his mark
Or is it bright, colorful, and pure
Derived by thoughts
The wills of the strong
Control our fate
Sing your swan song
When the end is near
We could be free
When truth stands alone
For once, it might be easy.

Here I dwell,
Embedded in the memory of you.
I reside in the there
of which you once existed.
Reciting moments which seem close enough to grasp
They lay within the palms of your rugged, resilient hands.
I am inferior
Delirious in the concept of your being
Far from where you are
I question the complexity of this madness.
May I ever find peace within your sturdy grasp
I ponder aimlessly at the thought of your return
Sluggish and hopeless I find myself waiting
May we ever be again my old friend?

Maybe I love you
But maybe I don’t
Maybe you could
But maybe you won’t

My heart dropped and then it fell.
"Don't worry, you're mine now"
Was all it took.
Five simple words,
Thrown together only to make you my first.
I still remember the spring we spent under the stars.
Long conversations and even longer nights,
Never imagining my life with out you in it.
The stars that brought us together are still here,
But two years later we are nowhere near.
What did I do to make you despise me?
"My life doesn't need you"
Five simple words,
That I wish I said first.

I spit words of lava, pouring passionately down my neck and to my toes; sealing me to this place where I stand, stuck in this place where I stand and my words are too firey for people to hear yet too gripping for them to look away.
and from a distance they peer not knowing how my words will quickly engulf and obliterate them, tearing up the roots of their society, the homes of families of lovers of friends demolished by my words;
my words so vehement they chase these people out of town and although I cannot budge from this place where I stand, stuck, I will ensue terror upon those who cross my path and I will burn those who rest too close to I.

“Daughter of Eve, Not Son of Adam”

Thy rosary is the noose,
Around my neck,
Trying to strangle me,
Until I repent for forgiveness,
Releasing me of alleged sins,
Thou view me to possess.

John: Chapter eight shall lead,
To salvation of the soul,
Or so I am told,
For the belief I have forsaken God,
In living life as a daughter of Eve,
When I am supposed to walk,
Towards the light as a son of Adam.

Am I mistaken?
For did Eve’s existence not ascend,
From the bone of Adam,
Thus the two sexes are intertwined,
In the origin of their being.

How dare thee accuse me,
Of being an abomination,
Suffering from irrevocable necessity to be saved,
Yet thine eyes drown in oblivion,
To what bestows Adam and Eve,
Their own essence.