yellow wildflowers from the creases of our brick fences match the dress you made me
I've never worn them
the patience enhances its beauty
I will wear it one day I promise

red reminds me of what I wore when you kissed me, it mocks me
to have knitted a blanket for two while the bed only fitted one
the patience enhances its beauty
I will warm myself one day I promise

white makes me surrender, not in the usual way it does, there are no angels
dirt and blemishes find their way to be admired
the patience enhances its beauty
I will be good one day I promise

blue grew up with me, a lonely companion that stayed when you left
bearing the throne's weight with its waves
the patience enhances its beauty
I will learn one day I promise.

Have I reached the resonating point of my existence?
For the downward trail I feel incoming
Slowly pierces through this pink thing-
that keeps me alive yet insane.
Be the guest that I unwelcome
Hammering down the bricks surrounding
The same wires that hang around my neck,
slowly snapping it-
one tug at a time.

F, standing for the fiery passion for when our tongues are intertwined

U, standing for the unforgiving spanks for when I fail to humour your commands

C, standing for that cunning smile for when you dispose the unflattering shadows of me into the dumpster

K, standing for the kryptonite of my vulnerable soul for when I surrendered my purity to your satisfaction

"****!", I screamed
Because I know
That you're going to **** me up.

A literal metaphor
A stationary dancer
A frozen river
An agreement of rejections and denials

Love makes the world turn grey
Love makes my arms turn red
Chained to the musty bed
Chained to the lifetime subscription of guilt

Lips quivering, legs shaking
The humidity of the moment trapped in my mind
Oxymorons in compliments, discomfort in moans
The heat of your breath corroding my skin

The blue walls reflected in my water-filled eye
Ripped pieces of thin black satin stacked in the corner of the room
Dark, rough hands stripping away my consciousness
Lighted candles in the dim chamber exposing my caramel skin

Is this a mid midsummer night's dream
if this nightmare haunts me everytime the mirror stares at me?
Is this a Disney fairytale
if this tale drowns me in disgust?

This piece of paper rejects the kiss of my old pencil lead-
Its blackness fading
Its magic disappearing
Its meaning slowly annihilating itself.

My muse has turned into a black screen;
Embroidered with small white pills and
Large doses of alcohol
Radiating myself, this black hole
in a galaxy with only stars remaining

In this vacuum, I ask myself only one thing
Am I really a poet ?
if the only thing I can write about now
is how I have nothing to write about.