She said cry me a river,
So I bled her an ocean,
I drownd all the things I loved most,
Ship wrecked my emotions,
Lost my hope at sea,
All I needed you to be was my lighthouse,
Mom,
I'm sinking,
See THIS OCEAN ISNT MY HOME ITS SOME IMAGINITIVE PLACE I GO WHEN YOUR WORDS STEAL THE AIR FROM MY LUNGS AND THE WATER THAT USE TO BE SO REFRESHING FILLS MY THROAT AND DOESNT GO DOWN ALL YOU CARE ABOUT IS WETHER OR NOT YOUR FLOATING BUT MOM IVE BEEN TREADING THESE WATERS EVER SINCE 98

Water Water Water

You could paint the grief from your heart, on your forehead. And people would suddenly close their eyes, and tell you to pull your cap down, a little lower.

I don't know how you can love someone you've never met, but I miss you everyday.

***; is just a word mispronounced on foreign tongues. Either way, it's beautiful.

Initiation of life, I skipped it twice,
To drink from the fullest cup,
By myself so I don't know what I'm good at,
I know I'm good for,
Don't be a sell out,
Cause they'll just sell you out,
For replaceable,
Tactile they wave the reward above your,
head,
Standing in fresh concrete,
Covered in grass,
To mask the fact,
That im sinking,
It's okay to be a mess,
But it's not okay to fall apart,
Give me that glue stick and the scissors,
It's going down tonight.

Tonight I'll brush & cut till the dread locks, are no more.
I'm not me anyway

There's fire in your eyes, like my favorite lighter. I'll keep you in my back pocket even though I don't smoke anymore

For those in plastic houses,
Clear and Empty always cracking,
Lacking the passion of a true home,
Captivating the emptiness,
Suit and tie life just ain't for me,
The snow so cold by itself,
But build a home in the misery,
It'll keep you nice and warm,
Shelter you from the sun,
I keep my thoughts in my igloo walls,
I decorate my walls,
With all my problematic things,
Home, home, home

You get exactly what God you think He is.

I keep everything bottled up, like the alcohol. I kept bottled up until the perfect occasion. words are like wax, the way they soothe your skin. Just to be ripped off. Beauty hurts, and my brain is like the junk drawr your mom says is pointless. I've got more than one, some have nick nacks. Others have yellowed pages with an 8 year olds signature. 47 questions to a dad she'll never meet. My mom found them and asked if I stll need these. I shrugged it off, but later that day she found me in a pile of trash gripping those wrinkled pages. Because if I let go of the grief who am I? I eat mini kit kats, and get drunk with people I don't know. To pass the time. I watch strangers in the streets, know me more intimstely than I ill ever let a boy. My mom asked me what the matter, the world shook into a great perhaps. I look away, running my finger down the cracks in the pavement. My dad never wanted me. She said, oh please. Huffed away. But what she doesn't understand. Is that she understands perfectly. But selfishly she puts it behind her. Because the men she chose to put in her daughters life, didn't belong there. In this spectrum. And everything was built up on pity & rebellion. Emotionally & physically abused since 02. I crushed that sea shell dad, the one I got from the sea. I guess it got bad connection. Maybe you never could hear from me...

Innocent adolescence, my favorite words.

Bean bag wasted dreams,
Legs on your lap,
Making out with a bottle of jack,
My bestfriend is on crack,
Cause life is wack,
I like the awkward faces you make,
& the way you always lick your lips,
After the first sip.
I like the human species,
And how were convinced you can fight with your eyes closed and still win.
Hawks always fly by me, with sad eyes,
They know something about me, that I'll never know. You said, " man I could sleep on you"
Butterfly kisses on bridges of my nose.
Drunk expierences.

I reverted back to self doubt, to a couple steps before the starting line. The jammed coffee maker a synonym for my suicide. The the open face rejection of a boy telling you, "you're not good enough" . Like a drink without a holder, I am prone to spilling over. And here I am, mopping up my insides.

I only drink water,
From the good side of the sink,
Reprimand your love,
Fill this empty space,
Fair maiden,
With braided hair,
She sleeps in the forest,
& the valleys bellow,
Walks across your land,
Bare feet in the snow,
She drives you wild...

I could just go, like an unanswered wish in the wind. Swept up in the dirt to grow again.

Sheets covered in blood, kept me warm in all your absence dad. I slit my wrists, went to sleep. Only to wake up dead again.

Oh hello, oh hello. Brown bat, trap cat. Needle, consumption. Broken home, habits come to be redone by sons & daughters of guiltless mothers & fathers. We breath a sigh of relief because, that's not our kids. Street signs, bicycle rides. Not Ferris wheels. Blacks, against whites, gays & their rights. The only problem use to be if you are fat. But we lay that down, on the old tracks. The ones America doesn't use anymore. Instead we scroll through life, with a fingers & thumbs. Scaling stocks & bonds. We follow leaders with humor while the nation needs lead by leaders with the process of brains that we are only human. Not machine, just a man with a gun. A home, away from home. What if we just stopped. Consuming consumers.

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.

The world laughs, when I said "I hate guys",
Like a bold lettered joke,
A misspoken abbreviation of life,
I'm serious,

He laughed,
His bright green eyes lighting up,
His choppy messy hair,
Flying up as he tilted his head back,
Staring at the ceiling,
He looked back sad,
Whispering," maybe you could've loved yourself"

I placed the cuts between your fingers,
Intricately,
Your mind like patch work,
Flipping the switch on & off,
Doesn't save a life,
There's not enough oxygen in the world,
But please go on about equality,
Hold the hand of a dying child,
Cause all he wanted in life was to not be,
hungry,
I got the cat out of my tool box,
I wiped window pains with ciggerates,
So we'd all be a happy family.

But that’s the beauty in loving someone, all those limbs to jump from.

Backwards back cracks,
He pulls the straps tighter,
Her hips bleed sonnets from 1978,
A war inside a woman,
An unknown battle to the world,
It starts at such a young age,
No cease fire till you're dead,
Paint your lips red,
Even though your personality is stale,
Because the world stole the word beauty,
And printed on a list of cans & cants,
Her eyes shadowed bright gold,
***** falling out,
Even in the winter cold,
They say she will be loved,
Loved loved loved,
Longing is all she'll ever be.

I sat infront of the mirror with God last night,
I traded my pretty blue eyes for slimmer thighs,
My gorgeous thick curly hair for smaller hips,
Those cute freckles on my nose for bigger lips,
My smile for a smaller stomach, my laugh for bigger *****. He cried, I didn't know who I was.

I've spent the last 8 weeks studying Taoism, trying to find the art in letting go. But I can't and the pains pant, inside. Because at the end of the day, you're just black lines, carried across a blank page.

Hey guys I can't sleep! Feel free to snapchat me!
Madisonparis is my username

I hope one day it’s just a memory and not an activity.

Bleary, dreary bifocals looked out through seeing eyes. At the maze of apiculture before him. He pushed a cart his whole life, never stepping up on the ledge to ride it.

Every Tuesday night, his fist packed tight full of ones. Uncrumbling, Washington from his back pocketed jeans. He'd lay him out flat, on the desk, like I should be impressed. One pack of cigs please.

He'd take his cart, around the world & back. Show kaleidoscope girls a good time. Because no matter how pretty that **** picture was, no matter how many times you tore it a part...it was always ugly. Just like the make up, that caked up the beauty on her face.

Parking lot pickups, corner cat-calls, was all she would be worth, a penny in the gutter, if she was lucky. Face up, grasped by hands that'll never love her. Such a steep price, for such a cheap use of love. Generic.

He tells them, he loves them as his boots slide on, comfortable. Too much in a hurry to take his socks off. Humming, Spin Doctors under his breath. He breaths heavily, like he worked so hard that day.

She holds onto morales like lose change, change is lose when you're use, to anything. That shows up on the corners on a Tuesday night, with something new to ignite. Not just the ciggerate between his lips. Lion skin, hipocrathy.

I lay the bills neatly in the drawr, wondering what price he really pays for the stress to relieve his mind. What price does the girl pay, how many clinics does she visit in a year. Baby girl YOUR NOT AN ACCIDENT, YOUR WORTH MORE THAN THE WORDS THAT HIT YOUR CHEEK LIKE A SLAP YOU HAVE MORE POTENTIAL THAN THE MEN YOU LET COMFORT YOU INTO THIS ABUSIVE SOLIDTUDE. YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL, I WOULD SPEND EVERY CENT I HAD JUST TO SIT & TALK WITH YOU.

**Luke 7:47
"Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven—as her great love has shown. But whoever has been forgiven little loves little.”"

Of atheism, you want to be the God of your own life.

Trace the outline of her rising *******, with your breathing łïpš. Understand the horoscope of freckles on her chest.

The fatness added to the data base,
You're overweight,

It'll break cause it's just plastic.
Map out a conquest, a Great Dane on my lap,
Welcome home mat, I burned with a match,
Matt died last spring, April first wasnt a joke,
May 9 is the first time I'll drop acid,
It won't go bad, I hope.

You don't half *** guitar,
Me and Bob Dylan, like a holy rolling stone,
You've gone too far,
It's not about the strings,
The C Major or D flat,
It's the character in the music,
All the things you lack,
Have you ever wept with a guitar,
And felt it tremble under your touch,
The last time I played was after being molested,
I didn't want to use it as a crutch,
Make it feel ***** & cheap,
Like me.

linger, even when the snow melts.
when the tires tread normally,
stay with me until morning,
dont leave abruptly,
linger.

They played in the Garden of Eden,
After hours, when the street lights when out,
And the pavement cooled down,
They drank from green hoses,
Fine aged wine in a different world,
He gave her a boost,
Soft hands on bark,
So close to touching the moon,
The earth beneath her,
No fragile wings opened,
They chopped down the tree the next day,
No Garden of Eden,
And no little girl to play,
He spends his days making paper airplanes,
Thinking of the sky that took his bestfriend.

My thighs frame your cheeks,
Tambourine tantrum in the sheets.

You look worse with me on you, I love you, air compressor, graciously ungracious, it hurts to know, that you can't look at me in a bathing suit, and whisper please go change, I thought I loved myself, but that was yesterday's lame, I've stopped eating, I've stopped cheating, on the way I say, ill run later, I can't apologize.

I've got a couple 50's where my two bestfriends use to be. They don't know it yet.

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.

Share,
Keep,
Metacarpals inside me,
Table topped,
G spot,
Phalanges exploring,
4D,
Expierence

And God I swear, I remember what that six stringed instrument sounded like. Before your sand dollar face washed away the memory. I don't play anymore, my heart is out of tune. I'll crawl back into the nonexistent plexi glass ordiment. Of your eyes.

Swinging on a swing set, surrounded by old bullies, swing a little higher. Oops that was ****.

As you jump back from me disgustedly,
My words can only bring empty soliloquy,
Stapled jaw lines, & open mouths,
Mumbling I'm sorry, through cracked lips,
You wonder why I sleep with my bedroom door locked,
Don't cry over split blood on tile floors,
The clean up is easy.

I plaster memories over faces,
Distant places in the present,
I dominate the room with the constant regrets,
Of yesterday 1978,
I pull the liquid thoughts,
Of what I can & cannot do,
Overlap it weighing,
Out the good & the good,
Don't tell me who I am,
You've got no right to be dating,
I'm your mother you'll do as I say,
Paper rain; origami,
Mailing needs to go to the vet today,
Today,
I'll have to dig her up out of her grave,
Today,
Tomorrow,
Yesterday,
Here & now,
I plaster faces over memories,
Room full of strangers could be enemies,
Get out of my house,
Get the hell away from me,
Daughter, brother, uncle,
Who are you,
It's hard being 20 when you're 93...

How far do you go? All the way. Lololololollll

Trees are often more solum than humans,
Their roots deep within the earth,
Yet they leave with the sudden breeze,
Nothing can make them stay,
They bend, but not break,
Are not swayed by the human race,
Trees are my elders,
Mother,
Father,
Brother,
They see the world through different eyes,
Look,
I use to dance for them,
Bare feet on solid ground,
The wind the only instrument,
Me and the Tree's only sound,
We'd have great times,
Until you chopped them down,
Mother,
Father,
Brother,
No where to be found,
You gave me this wasteland full of useless things,
When I walk across the concrete,
I feel their hallow screams,
Buried beneath the pavement a couple feet down,
Your wonderland of useless things,
In this pointless town,
The wind still calls for its lovers,
No longer intertwined at night,
He bounces off buildings ,
Frightening little kids,
There's no such thing as love,
Just axes and fire

I got drunk with a kiosk, we made beautiful music. With styrofoam cups & plastic utensils.
We became one, over salt & sugar packs.

My room is dark, pitch black, the calming security of the endless nothing before my eyes, I take a step, then another, the out skirts of a tuffeted bed spread scrape against my knees, I am blind for merely minutes, but I feel more intuned with life already, my castle has smoke rising like the oceans tide, the all too familiar smell, of **** burning to ashes, like it does to my thoughts, I'm burning my brain, but it's better then feeling...lost. Haha dad, though you never raised me, I'm just like you.

I'm laying in my brothers bed, I just needed a change of scenery. He's been dead since late September. No one even goes in his room. Like his bedroom is the coffin that we layed him to rest in.

No
     No
          No

This is the room we played games in, threw waterballoons & blasted trap music in. Where we climbed out your window into another universe. We dared to be stupid just because. He had thick brown hair, wide intimidating eyes. He would shove me off the bed, telling me to go die. Tell me one more time, I'll listen to your advice..