Sometimes i wish i was a silkworm
so that i could weave something beautiful
out of nothingness
and wrap myself up when i feel lonely
or scared.
Sometimes i want
oh so badly
to feel a lover's hand in my hair
just give me a sign
two tugs so i know you're there
i just want to make sure.
I am like a silkworm
because the thread i hang from
is so fine and fragile
but when woven together with more
we are strong.
I'm so scared that without you
I'll snap
I'll fall.
Hell, maybe i'll even cut myself down
and just walk away
unscathed.
unscathed?
i think not.
life is far too ******* us
to leave anyone unscathed.
from the moment we emerge into this world
the weight starts to set in
that's why babies cry so **** much
that's why i used to care so much
but what's the use.
once everything's gone to ****
you might as well enjoy
dangling
and watching the chaos ensue.
we are all ruined
we are all so broken
and ******
and that what makes it nice.
we are all ruined together
we've woven a fine tapestry of disaster
we spin destruction.
the destruction of innocence
the destruction of silence
the destruction of perfectly good bonfires
but that's what makes it nice.
We weave a web of bad choices
we like to pretend that we are spiders
we like to pretend that they're afraid of us.
but they still hold on to the illusion of calm
they think they can control us
conform us
or destroy us
and we play along because it's easiest that way
they can see us
and they are seeing a lie
because we are too cowardly to show them the inside
to spill our guts in the name of honesty
and confess our sins
to cut our silkworm threads
and trade our saturday nights
for shackles
because we are tangled up
in a spider web of lies
but it's nice
and i like feeling invisible sometimes
it helps ease your worries
if no one can place the blame
because it's not easy to find
someone so perfectly wrapped up
in a silkworm thread cocoon:
the only thing that holds me together.
i'm happy to be falling apart
i'm so happy to be dangling.
But sometimes i need you to give me a sign
two tugs on my silkworm thread
to let me know you're here
and i'll cut myself down
so beautifully ruined.

Roses are red
this much is true
but guess what
violets are violet
not ******* blue

Hello my dear
this is just to say
that i ******* hate you.
You
You
You treat me like ****
your words are like knives
and every single one finds its target
because i trusted you
because i believed you
but that does not make it my fault.
No sweetie pie, this one's on you
You
You
You are a monster
you reek lies through your skin
you secrete fake love
and you are lower
than the ****** on the corner
you are even lower than
the blows that you deal to me
because you broke me
like i was made of glass
and i kept coming back
and i blamed myself
but this round goes to me
because every time that
you thought you brought me down
you just added another layer to my skin
you made me thicker
you gave me strength
but i will never thank you
now it's my turn to break you
now it's your turn to run away crying
and when you come back apologizing
i will slam the door in your
putrid little face because you
you
you
you are not worth my time
you were never worth my time
and i don't give a **** what you say
because i'm not your ***** anymore.
i'm not yours to **** dry and push away.
because you took too **** much
and now the pain that you gave me
in return is
coming
back
around.
Hello my long lost love
you
you
you better stay lost
because this is just to say
that
we
are
done.

I was young
Sticky hands
Wide eyes
Wandering through the garden
My wide eyes
Fell upon
People
New people digging up
The flower beds
The tiger lillies
And putting them in my red wagon
And taking them away.
My mother sold our tiger lillies
Because they reminded her
Of my father
And so she hated them
Both of them
And we no longer have tiger lillies
In the garden.

Am i too young to die
or is that not my choice

I do not fear death
but i do not welcome it with open arms

I am too young to die
but then, isn't everyone?

my lovely typewriter
smith-corona clipper
best christmas present
hope for the future
sleek black body
rounded black keys
belly full of mechanics
white paper in between
words flow from my brain
through my fingers
without comprehension
letters
words
sentences
paragraphs
pages
and then i throw it away
and start over
because no matter
what anyone says
it's always so much better
trapped inside my head.

I write so many love poems
sad poems
poems about him
the unnamed him
who's figure i crave like hard drugs.
The him who is leaving.
That ******* HIM.

This is not a poem about him
My life is not about him
I am resilient
independant
I don't need
him.

Maybe in a year...
he will come back to an unbroken me
who's feelings never took a hit.

But i don't need him
and i will survive.

Hope comes in the form
of a blue minivan
And the anticipation
Of who may be inside.

I love the smell of the strawberry hand soap
in my tile bathroom ringed orange
with iron stains
in the cheap sink
and shallow bathtub.
I love the way he smelled when he stood too close
in the dark
backstage.
I love the way the air smells
after heavy rain
and storms with lightning.
I love the way clean sheets smell.
I love the way lavender smells
I love the way bread baking smells.

I wonder if you
Think about me because
I think about you
So much.

He kissed her tenderly.
The sweet taste of her lips
And the catch of her breath
Enthraled  him.
When he pulled himself back to admire her beauty
He was met with a sorrowful glance
And whispered
Goodbyes.

Goose.
Goose goose geese.
Geese Geese
goose geese,
duck geese goose
geese duck geese goose geese.
Duck goose geese
Swan duck goose.
geese goose duck swan
swan duck goose geese goose.
swan duck geese Ryan Gosling
goose duck swan.
Swan duck goose.
Swan.
Goose duck geese goose.
Goose swan geese duck.
Swan swan goose
duck geese goose.
Duck duck goose geese swan.
duck swan.
duck.
swan.
swan.

"I wonder if a
watermelon would explode
in the camp fire?"

The watermelon
was placed in the fire. There
was no explosion

just some very warm
watermelon. No one died
Surprisingly.

Born of light and dark intentions
knowing not, the joy of acceptance
isolation, so serene
creator vows not to intervene
exploring life like a child
hatred bound, exceptionally wild
mangled face, open heart
hateful reception
admiring from afar
leap of courage, joy, and hope
poor reception and insults thrown
beaten down, running away
scarred for life, forever dismay
burn the home and torch the past
anger fueled and running fast
rush of water, painful current
savior of child, warrior wounded
bleeding limbs and broken hearts
yearning for a way to restart
seeking brethren in the woods
wretched intentions, misunderstood
purple marks about the neck
brother of victor, lying dead.
satisfaction, newfound goals
blame is placed, creation abhorred
seeking out thine detested creator
tormenting threats, intellectual banter
ultimatum, stories told
“create another by my mold”
creature of spite and dark intentions
never to know the joy of acceptance.

At one time
Every atom in your body
Belonged to a star
A beautiful burning
Ball of hydrogen in space
In the first grade
When they gave you
Those stickers that read
'You're a Star'
They weren't lying
So when I wish for a star
I'm really just wishing for you
And maybe
You'll be wishing
On that very same star
For me too.

All I want is someone
Someone to hug
In a not so plutonic way.
I want to hold hands
With interlocking fingers
Swing arms like a pendulum
While we walk down the street.
I want to talk for hours
About everything and nothing.
I just want to talk to you
It doesn't matter
What words fill the empty space
As long as they're there.
As long as you're there.