The day I was born it was set that
A church pew would never be my ideal
Unsettled and out of place

Danger has a pull-
A delectable choke hold
Most of all
It's my will to refuse opposition
Condemn me a sinner-
And you the apparent rightful saint
Who belittles and expresses hate among others
Though I know not all proclaim the same-
The majority has always out ranked

Forgive me for my open mind and love for others
My so very sinful morals
I'll send you a postcard from hell
With a picture of lucifer himself
Sign it sincerely with love
From my fiery hell to yours
Xoxo
(From one hell to another.)

(C) Tiffanie Doro

It was the way the branches were shaped. I have lived in this house for exactly a year and seven months. I have sat in this exact chair and observed my surroundings. I have studied the positions of the trees, the way their leaves are shaped. I have sat here and talked about life with the greatest man I've ever known. Watched the snow fall, filled with anxiety, I thought I was trapped forever. Seasons passed and I grew with the changes. Tonight I sat here, blood soaked in *****, norco dissolving in nasal passages, Mary Jane dancing in the wind... I felt the frightful chill of October. It was like death and despair had arrived and taken hold of my soul. They reached out their ghostly arms and embraced me, filled me with dark cavernous thoughts. I was numb and the weight of a thousand worlds fell upon my shoulders once again. I saw his face, I longed for the chance of laying upon his bed and breathing him in. Breathing in the nights when he said he had my back forever, inhaling the bittersweet sting of a love rejected. I missed his laugh, his temper. I saw his name written in the trees and I knew his voice. The wind whispered through the leaves and played a song like Mary Elizabeth Frye once described. I heard his song, crying out for me to live, to make this existence matter. Cheeks turned, I blamed the higher being, "why such a beautiful soul? Why?" I am so cold and I can't feel my limbs, frozen in yesterday, frozen in the October wind. I sit here and I read it in the trees, it tells me to live but I think I've forgotten how.

Its been two months,
60 days,
riding this elevator up, down.
60 days each starting with a ride down,
hung over, sore lungs, red eyes,
anxious about my health, studies,
and when the amphetamines will kick.
60 days ending with the ride back up,
heavy eyed, mostly drunk,
anxious about whether or not I've impressed that girl,
or whether or not I give a ****.

Failing, academically, morally,
I skip class, take advantage of people,
I **** my friends, **** strangers,
**** my sheets at night when I dream about the girl I've never met,
or maybe met but never considered.

I'm full of it, flexing my scrawny arms when I'm alone in that elevator.
I can't tell what I am to people, how I compare.
What I do know is I'm sick, lack empathy, *****,
immature, greedy, drunk, spoiled, distractable.
But people like me, even grow fond of me.
The only thing I'm doing right is hiding,
myself within myself.

you see, i see you as
a father figure.
not in a creepy way, but
in an adoring way.
you are so kind to me,
you give me reasons to
believe in myself.
you help me see the
light.

i envy your daughter.
she gets to be with you
constantly and she gets
your undying attention
and your unconditional
love.

what's not to envy?
i envy the way you
care for her and the
way you love her and
how you are a
good father.

i wish i had one that was
good, just like you.
i guess that's why i'm so
close to you, why i even
told you my story.
you deserved to know
because you'd believe me
when he didn't.

thanks.