On a bench in a park I sat alone
to watch the sun go down
and as I watched
the girl with the braided hair
sat next to me
I taught her about life
she lived where shadows roamed free
in a house on a field
with harboured secrets
silently, assuredly,
she mouths out to me
touching my hand
living the life I left behind
the girl with the braided hair
talked with me
I distract her from life
she pranced around in white mary-janes
in a blue gingham dress
with too-mature worry
sweetly, cautiously
she laughs with me
brushing my hair
living a life she wished to live
the girl with the braided hair
watched the sunset with me
creating her own life
where no shadows dared to roam
in a castle by the sea
with fairies, and light
sadly, wishfully,
she rests her head on me
dreaming her life away and I realise
the girl with the braided hair
is me

Young girl
Dumb girl
How many times are you going to think he’s the right one
How many times are you willing to get hurt
Mentally
Psychically
Be careful
You’ll get a bad reputation
I know you
You pretend to be strong
But you’re weak so weak
How many times will you allow him to break you down
You’re to young
I want to protect you
But I’m no better than you
I fall just as hard
And as fast
Im impulsive
And weak
But I want to change that
I want to help you
But what could I do
What if this time he’s the right one
Or
What if he’s just like the others
All the broken promises
All the heartbreak
We’ll never truly know
Until it’s to late
Why must we bare the burden of young love
They think its dumb
And it is
They say it wont last
And it probably wont
But we still look for it
Hoping
That maybe
Just maybe it’s him
That he’ll be able to fix all the hurt
Always saying
Maybe next time
Maybe next time?
How many next times will there until you know
Is it even worth it?
I guess we’ll just have to wait
We’ll find out together
We’ll go through the pain together
We’ll do it all together.
But
Maybe next time we wont be so young and dumb.

There are occasions that call for misdemeanor.
There exist instances of philanthropy in selfishness
        i don't have too many good things to say
so i'll just write my little thoughts
        on this little paper
                and call it a day

A  popeyed visitor,
to the newly opened
museum, see this;
a metallic bust
of a populist politico,
smiles intermittently,
to everyone around.
(They had enough of it,
even before his demise.)
Perplexed, he reports
the misdemeanor,
dutifully at once.
The shrink with him
during this time,
was away talking
with a museum guide.

Clocks rupture
Their willowy hands thaw
Groping for each solemn hour
Stillness encapsulates
Seconds wither
Time is a stagnant corpse
Lying composedly
Amid a necropolis of lives he’s taken
Guilt sinks its teeth in like wet cement
Time once whispered his tears
Through a colorless chime
None heard
None cared
None mourned
All just watched
Watched with cavernous fright
As time clung to their shadows
Scribbling death upon their veins
And staining their youth with fear
“What a harrowing purpose I serve”
Time croaked
And with quivering lips
Time slipped away
Tick
Tic
Ti
T
_

like no other thing is about you
that's what i'm about
i'm 9 miles of heaven
and a long spark.
i mean what i mean,
i see farther by closing my eyes
and i seem speechless
but the words are domain
and what i said
is i love you

just now