is there a rehab
for self-hatred?
because i don't
fall into drugs.
i fall back into
hating myself.

allow me to breathe in your presence
to take in your glory and intellect
to swallow whole your allure and charm
in this i'll take with me a little piece of you
and my sinful lust will be satisfied
so i can go a few more hours before i need my self-defeating fix
i smoke three packs a day of just your eyes
and drink a case solely of your taste
your name trickles off my desperate tongue ad nauseam in its crave for your warm broth of love
and my heart pumps to the beats of the angelic song that echoes with your glow
the streams and rivers of my blood flood collectively into the delta of my mind
that can only make out thoughts of where you are when you're not here
as they tell my legs to walk and walk until my feet bruise and blister to wherever that may be
because that is the place i feel impervious to death and despair
the place where the once hollow well that is my soul fills with your crystal clear drips of freedom
the place where i feel immortal
and i count the seconds as they pass
to know that paradise is real

Forgive me when I say we are like a candlestick

Frozen in a tapestry of waxen wars
Tilted diagonal on lilted syntax of fears

But we are
Aren't we?

Born with skin of bullets
Metal guns stained with blood
In our little innocent hands
Rumor of war is it?

There is no rumor

For the war already begun in our hearts
Shall we walk the red  bloodied carpet of this government
World leaders wearing human bones as a crown

We are walking it

Heads held high and heads in our hands
We will walk it with no shame
No regrets

We have none
For our beliefs is the deceitful armor we wear
We gladly wear it for all to see
No, not the clothes we wear that covers our faces

Letting only our blacken eyes see

No

Not those
Its the deceit I mentioned

We are at war my fr-- nemesis
We are
But I'm not
I don't want to be
I'm trapped you see
Trapped like this candlestick
Stuck in the pain of my tears
I am only a child but they gave me no hope


They killed my family
Replacing love with a metal machine in my hands
I have something to live for now
I am doing what I need to do

Though I feel a tug at night
When all is dark
When it’s my thoughts and I

Memories of real love
Hope
Joy
Peace

But it is dried now
Dried up in this desert sand
Where my boots stained with blood
Leave prints of death
My favorite color is no longer red

Its black

The monochromic  war of life stole all beauty from my eyes
So be thankful for your life
Be thankful please
For my heart are pieces of shells from my bullets

Hello I'm six years old
I've lived through more experiences
Then you have in twenty years
What can I say ?

Life IS
What it IS

It just IS, ISn't it?

I like to play pretend
and imagine I'm important,
to set up tea parties with
things that don't matter
so I can feel relevant,
to spend time alone
so that I'm the biggest
living thing as far as I know.
I am but a little girl,
small, weak, stupid,
naive, and my world is
made of wishful thinking
and waiting to
finally grow up.