I was eight and in math class
and I wrote your name over and over again in my little green notepad hoping that you’d notice or that you’d feel the pressure of my pen tracing your name over and over again.
at the end of class the teacher asked me to walk up grab some chalk and long divide
but I hadn’t a clue and no where to hide so I tried, with minimal effort, to sketch some numbers on the board, curling my 2 and crossing my 7 so that you’d notice me.
I looked at you and your chubby face looked back at mine
and I loved you for a long time, then.

lay with me on the lawn
when it's too hot to move
and silently soak up the sunlight

dance with me while moonlit
to your favorite song
as the stars shimmer in our eyes

love every part of me,
speak to me in poetry,
and never let me go

You're beautiful  but I can't remind you every ******* day
I can't rediscover that beauty all day
When I wake up at 6 am I don't think of it so
It's unnatural to so

But what I can do is forget it and become unimpressed
That would be unnatural
Forget to complement your dress
Forget to complement your eyes
Forget to complement your laugh
That would be daft

I can climb the top of your shoulders
Get lost in your freckles and laughter wrinkles
Discover the new sunset and it's death within you
Dismiss the rest as average
Is that okay?
But what I can do is silently admire it every ******* day

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I'm not going
to let anybody see
you.
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pur whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the ****** and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that
he's
in there.

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say,
stay down, do you want to mess
me up?
you want to ***** up the
works?
you want to blow my book sales in
Europe?
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody's asleep.
I say, I know that you're there,
so don't be
sad.
then I put him back,
but he's singing a little
in there, I haven't quite let him
die
and we sleep together like
that
with our
secret pact
and it's nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don't
weep, do
you?

Our advice is loose a few pounds
You're too round, they said
They frowned and drowned your silhouette
We'll kick you to the ground

Our advice is take up less space
Women with grace should know their place
You're a disgrace
A women should not leave a trace,
For this is a mans place

Our advice is speak less
Your opinions are too excess
Just go fix your dress
You have men to impress
Don't depress them with your free thoughts

Our advice is cater to your surroundings
These stings of femininity are your duty
But you see you cannot flee
They key to your freedom
Hangs around the neck of ****
Beaten till you're numb
Look what I've become
Come come, look what you've made us do
Beat you till you're blue, because you flew

My advice is, crush the bones of your oppressors
Put on your armours, grab your spurs
Smash the words of your oppressors
You deserve answers not slurs

My advice is gracefully place your furs on your throne, built of their souls
Throw away their scrolls into the coals
Admire the fire within your porcelain chest
And create a bonfire for the blessed

Their advice is done, you are no longer their nun
Now teach these to your son
Or he may too be, thrown into the sun.

-CP.

You bought me sunflowers last Saturday
because you like the yellow orchestra we can
listen to, but you do not have to direct.
It plays a private concert only for you.
I play a few notes here and there too,
but nothing can compare to sunflowers.

I compare lots of things to
flowers,
like your eyes.
You do something to my insides
I cannot explain
in a metaphor to flowers.

You planted a gilded seed.
It grew faster than any ****;
more delicious than homemade irish mead.

Sun shining, birds chirping, children playing-
all of this-
sounds like life’s decaying
because you’re not next to me.

You make oxygen more than a box on the periodic table.

I’m not suggesting I’m unable
to perform tasks without you.
I’m used to ashes in my coffee cup.
Your presence seems to open up
cold sunflowers.
You set ablaze the sun’s powers.
I could go on like this for hours
about the love you built;
iridescent solid sunflowers