blown proportions
using bodies as poetry
to run from & out of verbs

upon request you just said
mine and
what a delicate thing
to still believe
in something

If joy were a person
It'd be you
Dear sister

If kindness were a person
It'd be you
Sweet friend

If peace were a person
It'd be you
Kind soul

If goodbye were a person
It'd be you
Old friend

If hopeless was a person
It'd be me
Cruel world

She is a mass of contradictions,
smooth curves and sharp tongue,
soft skin and hard thoughts,
happy mouth and sad eyes.
An alluring curiousity,
she travels with the freak show;
under constant scrutiny.
Beauty struggles under
harsh lighting,
grotesque truth
brought to the fore.
Free within a cage
To which you hold the key.
Redundant wings now used
To cover her face.

You went on your fishing trip
Caught a big one this time,
You said.
This one's a bit heavy,
Weighed down.
With a sharp tug on the pole,
You finally retrieved your catch.
Well, what is it?,
You asked.
You held something in your hand
Pulsing and black.
Whatever it is,
It's not worth it.
You threw it back into the water,
Back into the dark depths.
Let's keep on fishing.
I wanna catch a big bass.

They say there's plenty of fish in the sea
But you didn't even notice,
When you caught my heart.
Sure,
It was beaten
Almost unrecognizable.
But it only took you a second,
To judge my darkness
As impairment,
And toss me back to a personal hell
You reeled in my heart,
And you didn't even know.

I'm sorry I can't be
**The catch of the day.

The beginning and ending
May already have been written,
But the chapters in-between
Are mine to write.
I will make mistakes
That cannot be erased
And my pen will falter
But never fall.
I will not always like
To read them back,
But the chapters
Are mine to write.