And as you watch, the chest rise & fall. You feel nothing but gentle breathing. Cold stares, remind you. Of the tacticless way you eat & puke. Not changing a thing, not determined enough to work out or keep the eating clean. I know why no one loves me, i must be hard to love. One giant big ball of flub. Tell one more big girl joke, just cause.

Should I go back & clean the salvia from your shot glasses. Keep the lined up, like the lines of strands on words of platonic sapling thoughts. The drifter & the gypsy.   You mean nothing but misery. I don't have time for poetry. It's there like an old bar stool.

You're just a pain that I refuse. It hurts real bad, but I wouldn't know I burried it deep, in last winters snow...

Raw tipsy apes, take away freedom with sips of glory. & pockets full of gold. While the mindless childless man lays on the ground. You've got some growing up to do. You've got some growing up to do. The man in the suit & tie or the one with no shoes. I'm not sure. Im not sure.

I mistook, your understanding of aestheticly correctly placed words. For passion. When you were just a **** boy in the making.

I write when I'm asleep, not about counting sheep. But sheets & tangles, & screams. Long live the choked up words in my throat. You mean the world to me...

And God asked me if I could ask myself something. I think all he wanted was honesty, when he found me lying there. Across a textiled comversation about darts & Kings. We played a couple rounds, & got drunk on jealousy. My God is a jealous God. Jealous of himself. Because he is us & I am not me. I left my door open for the moths to climb to my ceiling fan.

Don't

Mom nothing will happen. I know my way through a crowded bar. The glances wear off, sooner than the cheap makeup.

Someone has to budget in, the cheap love & wine.

Apples for łïpš, since rinsed I raised the hips. Of your body, against mine.

Modesty found its home, on the laced lined undercoat. Her ******* heaving with each breath, a sigh of relief her secret safe with herself & the men she showed. All the roserry beads between your ******* can't be counted enough to wash away your sins. So she weeps in the streets, because even the church won't take her in. And if I'm right, correct me if I'm wrong. It was jesus, who dined with prostitutes.
CAST the first stone. HE SON OF GOD, called religious people ******. Church is suppose to be a home for the broken. Not a gallerary for the great. So think about the nun, who's dead.

I remember the first
Time, I had ever heard the word,
Loath.
6th grade Literture class.
A future started inside me,
One of adventures, & poetry.

Hello, hello, hello beautiful.
Boy, who hides his face,
Behind the ******* of young lovers,
Because that's what life has given him a taste,
Of,
Of lust.

i hate you, why do you hate me?
i don't, I just want to test it out and see how it feels. Incase one day I do.* he smirked, **so you're one of those planning ahead types?

I wish clenched jaws would shatter

I hope I break my neck, on the way down from the back steps of your ego.

You eat to forget, & throw up to get rid of the regret. Toss & turn unable to medicate this disease in your brain. Ãłøñë, & in the dark.

This ones for you.

I AM MORE THAN YOUR HALF DRUNK UNSPOKEN APOLOGIES I AM WORTH LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS DONT YOU DARE SAY ID LOOK STUNNING IF I LOST SOME WEIGHT I AM MORE THAN YOULL EVER WISH TO HOLD IN THE PALM OF YOUR HANDS I AM MORE THAN THE POWER TO WALK AWAY FROM UNWANTED SELF HURT I AM MORE I AM MORE THAN.

The last time I heard "Beethovens 5 Secerets", I was in your arms. Writing amazing poetry. It came on tonight, ***** shuffle. My heart stopped & I danced & for the first time in weeks I didn't have to miss you, because your feet were next to mine...

What is this three versed ****, we call a love letter. Father, son, Holy Spirit. I can't not write about the stuff that saved my life. Catholics give me headaches. Religious people, taste worse than prethrown up caugh drops. Stand, kneel, stand, kneel. Your rosery beads didn't save you, and that crucifix around your neck...you don't even know what He did. You snorted & said it looked good with my fly new outfit. You only talk to me at night, when the world & the girls have subsided.

The element of suprise is delved into the path of how tiles are placed. I sink my toes into your love, just one more dip.

You're just a ghost, you're words are a ghost.
If I find you, you'll be a ghost.
Sitting on the curb in the suburbs of Iowa,
A ghost,
They'll toss trash past your head to the can,
But I'll know all the secrets they bled from your,
Hands,
I'll never hold them again,
I'll read through old messages,
And wonder why it had to be you,
If you're looking over my shoulder with your ghost eyes, know I never stopped loving you.

I'm not sure, nor am I sick. My heart aches though, these days. When I push open the front door, and the house is completely empty. Yet so full of breathing chests. But mine is hallow, and the vibrations and affiliations are that of a dog. Hooked on a fence, the chain dangling down it's neck. As it snaps the sky between its slobbering jaws. I wish the sky snapped me up, took me away to a place where people looked up when you walked past. It's not about being noticed, it's about being loved...

I feel nothing but ash, one time a made a 98 year old **** soldier cry. When I told him about the two lost brothers on two city towers. With rifle snipers ready to take out the enemy. The chamber is loaded with intent to blow the head, off in the dead of night. And as one fell, and the gun fire bled. He realized it was his long lost brother, Pilot. He whispered out regretfully lisply," my brother ". I watched the old war veteran hieve a big sigh, as tears fell from his eyes. Tear ducts washed anew. I glanced at the picture on the right, there stood Pilot & his brother drew...

I broke the back door, with my thumb nail of course. I forgot that you like slaming it everynight, my pain brings you pleasure. The pholicules just turn purple and peel off anyway. Another shade of pink, & a house without doors would be nice.

Lot of liars built a fire, with tongues that speak in languages only Angels understand. You talk behind closed doors, and pray and pray and pray. Judas, open your eyes kid.

I hope to find you in my inbox, curled up & missing me so.

I could fight you, I could fight you. If I wanted to, if I wanted to.  Yet you have your hand gripping me tight, and we won't fight, fight, fight. The light light light, keeps me tangled in your sight sight sight. Sigh, and focus.

Bold clasped hands greet cold bodies.

the he didn't tell the girl, that he had loved her until chapter seven.* and by that time, the character was far too dead to remember
   They'll blame it on wicked witches, but sometimes it's just boys with bad timing that's the curse.

I hope you're writing something useful.
Wherever you ended up.

Aware enough to cheer the game on,
As they strike out,
Your son sits behind you,
Keys clicking,
To fill the void of a good foot ball throw,
Hallow hello hell,
Fatherless fathers fell.
To sleep because the drugs,
Are easier than the kids,
He made.

Manila envelopes, pouring out Gods gold into the hands of a child. Where she sprinkles it, the world will never know. But I'll sneeze, and sometimes my face glows.

le soleil, literally translates to; "the sun". I've studied it so much. That the bindings on french dictionary's know my name. And ask me honest opinions about words on the pages. I say nothing, because think of nothing the but the sun in your eyes. But it was just the fire in mine. All second glances are not meant to be

Get it right or get out of here.

Quick sand, castle candles hold on to fragile paragraphs I forgot how to write. But I think writing forgot about me. And I burned all my fingers thinking about the pen pressed against my palm. The weird **** youre into. The glamour that rested on my hips. The tattoo under my left ***. You made it all worth it.

You drink all the milk out of, the bones & the marrow . My cell count is down to three point one. Hospital love, is so contagious.

I cuddle deeper into your ciggerate coated hoodie. Taking in the scent, making me sicker. But it's so comfortable.

Falling asleep to passing headlights, sangria in my mind. Your head in my lap, your fingers laced in mine. Another mans hoodie, propped against my head. His scent put me to bed not you. I wish beyond the sound of squealing tires, and back road drives. I fell asleep too soon.

I like adding poems to ãłøñë, because that's what these little poems are. Ãłøñë with me, with vowels & mixed demeanors. Have mercy Heaven, for the saints that walked before me. Left a narrow path back. And I'm not so sure I'll be okay in the next day....

I miss, when you use to read everything I wrote. Even though I was a ****** poet. You traced each lined phrase with those hazel eyes, & told me each was your favorite & took your breath away. Spent my nights on fire, and my days off the hook. Running with you. Into a future I hoped was possible. But I haven't seen you in three months. Summer fun I guess, you left me with a goodnight. So I'll leave you with have a goodmorning. But im not leaving. You're silver dollars & pockets full of lose change. That Id like to gather up & cash it in for a forever with you. I want to wake up with you.

Addition & subtraction, smoke blunts with God. Get satisfaction, I write poems about hating myself. Yet I don't change. And no matter how many times a day I hate summer, the climate stays the same. When all I would have to do...is move. Pack up my things go.
PowerPoint of the sixth day of creation. When God wept for the nations, I sat back & smiled. The realization of miss communication. We don't have to stay here, when you can just **** yourself. Mix my ashes with the pages of old bibles, trace the ruins of old fathers. That claimed they love their daughters but turned away too soon. Father's Day is coming up, pops I bought you a balloon. Filled with my thoughts. I pop it every single night. I mean it's only been 9 years since the last time that I saw you. Spoke to you. Pleas I'll smoke with you, roll up my sleeve and get cracked with you. Please just look at me, the way dads are suppse to. He cracked my jaw today, I'll write about the pain when I remember how to describe it. I thought it was emotional abuse, and then I found the bruises on my body. Come to find out I've been lying to myself, what a hobby.

I want to hide myself, in a forever fall.

Chips & dip, with a side of hip swaying seductive side dish. Still warm from the aftermath. My beds so full of your scent, it's been too long since I've seen your smile. Almost a month, pictures can't capture that moment.

It sounds like blue

I can't understand, why should would even want a man. But she don't leave and she won't anytime soon..

Do you have any vows to tell your woman. Hello young lover.

I didn't understand the feeling, of crumbling bones until I decayed at the sound of your voice calling her name. At the foot of the stairs, all I could bear. Was the quiet reminder, * I've seen you naked*. So many times, I blushed & looked away. No one was there, but the past ghost of what were. Stood still between the ten feet, gaping hole. Of I told you so. 8 years of love, wrapped up tucked to bed. I still remember the feeling of your hands on my łïpš, brushing past my hips. To clip away the wings, I grew. Without you, with you. Suddenly it's okay to cry, caters to