I can't remember the last time
Where I looked you in the eyes
And simply said what's on my mind.
It seems every time I'd lie;
Taking another chip from your heart
And placing it in my shark shaped
Piggy bank.
You called me out and I ran away with my words
Down another trodden path
Of familiar verbal catastrophe
When all you wanted was me.

Well if that's all you wanted
I guess I should start from the top.

I'm sorry but I think I'm leading you on. I'm apologize for coming on way too strong in the beginning. But I feel afraid all alone with no comfort from close friends, just media drones. I keep you around for the ***, however convenient, yet I can't stand the shape of your forehead, nose, or neck. I want to take away your breath, if not for the moment so you don't speak, then for the mornings when all I want you to do is leave my bed. I'm so insecure. My character faults tumble down the rabbit hole like a bead of sweat wet from my hairline on my head to my hairline in the crevice of my rear end. I still pick my nose and sometimes eat it fearing that if I don't that I'll feel cheated. I convince myself there are starving kids in Africa; kids who would do anything for a meal that they would endanger there body in the form of human trafficking. I'm selfishly selfish. I come out with personal gains for every favor in my friends' names. My *** ***** hangs but not as low as the average, a trait I think most females would laugh at. I have trouble saying "I love you" to my mother because deep down I feel troubled that she would just ridicule me for having feelings for another like she did when I was twelve. I consistently lie through my perfect teeth that hide the grime and cavities that I do keep. I feel like I should somehow be embarrassed and express all of thoughts to a psychoanalyst. But they would make me tell the truth which seems to be the most difficult thing I could do.

When all I want to do is lie to you.
And keep you on a fish line
Because I like the way our bodies intertwine physically.
Just please stop asking me what on my mind
Because honestly, you really don't want to know.

I acted for love
And won every award for
Your heart-breaking turn

Full of bile and alcohol,
You travelled the gables
With each up and down
Mercilessly mimicking
The acidic spew
In your esophagus.
It was your birthday.
Instead, I was recognized,
Lolling in the limelight.
You sat surely stone-like.
A symmetrically sweating schist
In October's mild order,
Being ignored by our parents
Like their arthritis.
At dinner you ate wine and salt-water
From tepid tears trickling
Down the face of your crotchety alter-ego.

I had the pork-chops.


'Your present is in the mail',
I'd say, in feeble effort
To make you dry.
That was a lie;
One of the many you'd hear
Galloping out of my mouth
Before I ever was "brother" enough to say


'I love you'.

I want love
But exude lust.
Every new hint of romance bursts
Like a match head
Struck against the faux flint on cheap cardboard.
The combustion possess me.
I can't get enough of the light;
The smell;
The way she dances in my shadow;
The excitement;
The adrenaline rush of potential destruction;
The way she slowly and silently creeps
Ever so closer to my chewed fingertips
But never, ever, ever, becoming a part of me.
I avoid the pain that will ensue;
That incessant sting of her kiss
As she attempts to engulf my body,
My mind,
And my soul.
I can not have this.
I will not have this!
I suffocate her
And leave a lingering, whispering psalm
Of mutual regret.
I dare not play with fire
As I reach
For another match.