How can I write about motionless, unfeeling, empty white walls?
You write about your unchanging, cold, blank mind
How can I write about slammed, unrelenting, locked white doors?
You write about your crushing, unobtainable, closed-off heart
How can I write about falling, unstoppable, restricting white ceilings?
You write about your deadly, unfair, judging mouth
How can I write about a room that doesn't hold me?
*You write about your past

Time cares not for your tears,
nor contemplates the weary years,
it toils with its prey inside its lair,
feasting on our pain and despair,

It cannot sooth a weeping soul,
or spirit dark as blackened coal,
it bares no comforting arms to hold,
just scorns in jest as our life's unfold.

Flight of a bird-
to destination.
A bird knows where-
it is going.
Random play, on the hunt,
building a nest.
A birds song-
a birds egg.
The flight of a bird
is no accident.

**** its been years since this thoughts had popped in my head
some of them were good , some were bad, some caused my life to be dead
i cry from tears of joy, sadness, and anger
sometimes i can really put my life at at a risk, at danger
so many dates, and still its a gashly fade
wouldn't be myself if it wasn't for the memories i made
i saw my mom cry for the endless addings of the problems
i saw her giving me her hand when i said i don't know how ill slove them
i saw my nephew being born again and again until i see the signs
im stuck in addiction, and i cant figure out why?
i saw the cop chasing me down to a dead end stop, until i got to the ground
i saw myself lookin at my stupidity luaghting at everything around
i dont see a childhood, and i cant see my future
but i can say what i am know , i need the help, a injection with a cure
i dont sleep and don't eat and only cried about a few times
i still see myself on the corner street asking for nickels and dimes
im sorry mom i love you, i committed the hugest mistake
but this situation isnt just a piece of cake
i see my self walk and talk about gibberish crap
i dont like this stupid cheessy unsexual rap

Snip
Cut
Bang
Simmer

I want a transit,  a travel against my skin, that keeps going until I command it to stop.
My mouth begged for light, to feel warmth on my face

Heat oven to 450

You laughed and tossed me,  a rag,  away from the mahogany scent of your chest to the cold,  hard floor that I am stuck to.
I miss you
I try to imagine you so that I can delude myself into continuing, but my mind strangely has already forgotten you.
I cannot remember your eyes,  or even your favorite color anymore.
Some wish for that type of amnesia, but I am solemn.
I wanted a piece of you to carry with me always.

Cook for fifteen minutes or until dark

I hear my other side in my head; She is the evil within me.
I am brunbrunette, she is red.
I wear flats--her long legs are attracted to heels.
She smiles and with a curvy, smooth voice,  much like a fiery dame from 1920:
"He has a piece of you though; you gave him your whole heart, and he only took a bite! That's alright, you don't need him or anything like him! You are a woman.... "
I drown her out with recipes,
4 cups of music and 1 cup chardonnay
(okay maybe MORE than one)--
therapy that I have made many appointments for.
Adding bits and pieces of me that I share,  and some I don't
One thing I know,  if a new one comes along,  he is going to have to be patient,
I learned my lesson from burning out on the first batch

Take out--let cool
Don't eat all at once--savor.
Enjoy a slice at a time.