I feel my life draining,
Slowly from my fingertips…
My hair,
Tumbling from the top
Of my
Withering scalp.
My veins,
Surfacing on my pale skin,
Bulging, pulsing,
Of the verge of bursting
To their own extinction.
And I am sitting here,
Watching the clock
With these tied and
Filthy, aching eyes.
I can’t slow my life down..
I have no time key.

The walls,
They fall.
The minds,
They crumble.
The teeth,
They shatter
On contact
With your words.
The skin suits,
They wither.
The single identity crisis,
They splinter.
Into a man’s
Multiple personalities.
The tears,
They spill.
The spines,
They chill,
The hope,
They lost forever and
A day ago.
And nothing is left
But the measly foundation;
Rotting and infested
With termites.

Styrofoam Soul,
You fit the mold.
You’re light,
And hollow,
And fragile.
My fingertips
Hardly graze
The surface of your
Skin,
And yet you still
Crumble
Under pressure.
You are close
To broken.
I am closer
To putting you
Back in the box,
And shipping back
The mentally defective,
Thick-skulled,
Sulking, narcissistic,
Woe-as-me *******
To the “non-profit”
“Go fund my happiness”
*** kissing
Organization
That brought the two of us
Together in the first place.

I’d cut off my own ear and mail it to you,
To be your very own personal listener-
But I’d rather gouge out an eye of mine
And mail it overnight via amazon prime.
For it has seen many tragedies,
As opposed to just hearing them.

Golden Afternoon-
I’ve waited years
To find you
When you were
Right here
All along.
Hidden under
Frozen nights and
Frore hearts.
I tore apart my
Chest to find
You.
I never asked for
This endless game
Of hide and seek.
I am no longer
Hiding.
Let the sun showers
Bathe me in their
Golden, elegant
Glow.
I face my
Inner light.
No more hiding in
The shadows.

Dreamsicle Mournings:
I mourn your
Warnings.
Early Mornings:
A thorn in my
Rosary-
I’m stuck on the
Same prayer.
I’ve torn my
White wings-
Forever falling.
Forlorn for
Rosemary.
God, get me
There.

Running cross country
Just so you can hurt me.
Desert me in the desert,
Leave me tethered to the sky.
I fly just fine
As long as
I’m high enough.
I’ve been staying dry enough.
Been getting by- sly enough.
Not shy enough to be alone
In my own personal reserve.
Haven’t you heard?
Awkward, anxious caterpillar
Took her time off too cocoon.
Now she watches you all swoon
Over her metamorphosis into
Social Butterfly.
I will be friendly,
I will not try to please the masses.
I soar through open sky.
With looks that serve and wings
That swerve.
All you insects
Are disturbed by the words
Of my accomplishments.
I can’t wait to see the astonishment-
I love who I am.
And if you are perturbed by
My self love,
Then Darling, I’m
Sorry your self esteem has
Fizzled out so low.
But you can still support others
From a friendly distance,
Rather than watching
People succeed
And immediately feeling
Resistance.