Did you know Ninjas have a language
That we can't understand?
While it isn't terribly complicated
it can be tough to comprehend

I happen to be fluent
I've studied for some time
Below I've crafted a poem
using Ninjutsu as my rhyme














































I can only hope you found
my poem to be delighting
there are few things I enjoy
quite more than ninja writing

If you touch the hot stove.....you will be burned
If you drink the poison...you will get sick
If the candle dies, you will be alone in the dark
If you jump...you will fall


don't jump


If you pull the trigger...someone will get hurt
If you break the glass you will bleed
If you stand in the storm, you will blow away
If you fall for me, your heart will be broken


don't fall


________


When I touch the hot stove
When I drink the poison

I learn from my mistakes

When my candle dies, I will light it again
and push forward

When I fall, I will pick myself up
Because that's what people do


take chances


I pull the trigger because I know where I'm aiming the gun
I break the glass because you placed it between us

I stand in the storm because it's where I always find you

I'm falling for you because we always risk getting hurt
when we fall
but we still have to try


*take the leap

I wanted you to love me.
I thought maybe if I dressed nicer, put my hair up the way you like it
Stopped being so weird and socially inept
Read more books and learned how to cook
It would make you love me more.

“Don’t ever change,” you told me.
But I thought I could see that really, you wanted me to
So I stopped smoking that ***
And I got myself a real job
Thinking it would make you love me more.

Never thought I was good enough
For someone like you, so I put on more makeup
Stopped hanging with those losers I called my friends
Lost my weird laugh and stopped making bad jokes
Thought it’d make you love me more.

“I used to love you,” you told me.
“But I don’t know who you are anymore.”

There are some, who serve big business,
who spread them wide and smile.
Some others say they’re populists
“Spread the Wealth’s” their style.
Some are just obstructionists.
For them,delay is fun.
They all **** heads together
And by default get nothing done.
They are the US Congress,
I wish they’d close their doors.
A plague on both your houses-
you Parliament of ******!

I saw you sitting on our front porch
It was a dull, silent day
The kind you find in Colorado
at spring time, early may
And the kids are at school
And the housewives are too busy cleaning the house
cooking their meals
Washing the lipstick stains off their husbands shirts

And you looked cute like little kids do
with a chubby face and baby hands
I sat next to you
and asked you what you were doing
You said "I'm waiting for the rain."
why?
"Because I like the smell of it."

You reaffirmed my sense in humanity then.
Someone who was only 5 years old
You made me want to go home and destroy every razor I had stashed away
Rip out every sad sob story of a poem I had written
Open up every curtain in that death stained house
That smelled like body odor
and human warmth
But it lacked
life

You made me want to scream and cry
and say "yes yes yes you're smart little guy!"

But I stared in amazement as thunder was heard
And now when I hear it, im reminded of your words
As I held your little hands in mine, the neighbour boy
and we danced in the rain as you squealed with delight
five years old with beautiful brown eyes
I could only hope one day Id have a brother like you
That was before my mom had the baby

And you were just a little boy
so every time it rains
I think of that dance
and how it smelled
and how it tasted when I found out that your stepfather had beaten your brains out

     3 years later
        after we'd moved.
That sweet-bitter taste.

of life laughing in your face

They tell me I'm great
And that I''ll go far
Because I posses such "intelligence"
For someone so young
I say Ive known greater
Ive known smarter
And the acid eating away at my insides
Is a direct result of all
your expectations
That I wont meet
And that test I'll fail on Friday
And all the teachers I'll let down
A doctor's daughter
The family of academics
That somehow bred a writers soul
A so called "artist"
However intellectual
I cannot do this
I cannot

Speed demons.  
They wait for me under my bed and whisper my name into the night.

They sink vampire teeth between my eyes,
inject awful toxins that make my mind throb,
pulsing pain like a second heartbeat.

Thump.
               Thump.
                              Thump.

I battle.  
I ignore.  
I cry alone into the night.  

I clutch my sweat-stained sheets,
trying to grasp reality as vivid hallucinations of another dimension
dance across my vision, a world of
***, drugs, and rock and roll.

It’s ******.  It’s sensual.  
It’s perfection, my forbidden fruit,
tempting, red, succulent, delicious,
rocks my body like an untamed sea,
unties the ropes of blue that pin my brain to D
                                                                                  O
                                                                                     W
                                                                                         N
and let me run free.
                                                                            P.
Free. Running Free. Flying High.  So Far U

I can barely breathe, my heart is racing
And this is only memories.  
My head flutters at the idea of flying again.  
And I ache and I pine the touch that only speed can give me,
a high that takes me to heaven on earth.

But still I battle.  I battle for my friends.

They cry, they get upset.  
They tell me I’ve changed,
riding an emotional rollercoaster straight to hell
to blow lines with the big man in red.  
They see a demon inside my sunken face.  They just want me.

To own me.
To own my body.
Once Again.

They plea, they want to help.  
Call, text, show up, knock at my door.  
We will tend to your broken baby bird body.

My body is breaking.

I am frail.  I am small.  I am hollow.  
I am cold, all the time.  My kidneys ache, my head screams,
my weight disappears faster than I can choke down bites of mediocre sandwiches.  
I am tired.  I am sad.  I hole up in my bed for hours
drowsily listening to the sweet sultry voices under my bed.

But I fight.  I say no.  I cry.  And I yearn.  
I never stop wanting those ******* pills.

I’m just too
Much.
Too much everything
Too big, too loud
Too passionate, too intense
Too much for one person to handle

I am slowly drowning in myself
The ocean of my personality
I am trying to suffocate myself,
Muffle my enormosity
In hopes that I will get smaller
And smaller
Until I disappear.