The lights are still on
Twinkling yellows and reds
God-I should be in bed
Maybe I should shut them off
Maybe that would silence my head
So far nothing works
Nothing drowns out the white noise
Simply never has
Music reminds me of you
And most songs make me sad
I can't find the words today
You grew them all like greenery
Always were good at that
Making me question my feelings
Where's the freedom in that?
I need to sleep
But all I can see is blue, blue, blue,
Maybe I'm going insane
Do I want to go through this again?
Because before I played a losing game
But could things be different
Everything is construction orange
Am I seeing things?
There's caution tape on all our hearts
Wondering if love is something we could bring

ink is running through my veins            
     your words sink into my skin            
       giving my heart an addictive dose
            words are all it ever took to win
               poetry-anything-even prose
                 every rhyme like *******
                     i swear i'll overdose

She tasted like watermelon on a july day 

pink and juicy

Mostly liquid (transparent) but full of flavor 

a rosebud mouth that inhaled like I did 

bitter meals of smoke from tin foil and glass 


She laughed like echoes off ancient cave walls 

all experience and fire 

dangerous arousal from a primitive state 

I gave her my greatest possession

sharing with eyes wide open 


She fights without going to Geneva 

*****, with bricks 
taking hits like a man

deep breaths of poison and still she trudges on 


She smelled like gardenias inside my palms 

familiar and hand-picked

infested with seeds 

but all that I can recall is her on my lips; 

pink and juicy



tasting like watermelon on a july day.

There sits a box
beneath my bed
where I gently place
each one of you.
You are all
beautiful
in your distortion.

I pop each of you
out,
every once in a while;
like ice cubes
from a tray.
You slither and melt
into me,
your frozen waters;
an ocean of time.

I'm taken back
to when
you all meant something.
All my deceit and pain
tied tightly
with a
velvet ribbon;
offered
as a gift.

I disguise you
with costumes
so grand
you appear to be
a commodity,
property of
trickery so dark.

I keep you
hidden
in that box
beneath my bed
where you can't escape
without my key.
You only come out
when my demons
won't sleep;
their elusive charm
so seductive;
a perverse
mutilation
of thought.

Pad-locked
and secret
are the lies
I've told.
The lives
I've lead
and those I've
destroyed.

Underneath the rubble
and debris
breathes a girl
so lost,
squandering herself
aimlessly;
without reason.

So in the box
you will stay,
wrapped up warm
in blankets of
regret,
until the time comes
to clean out
what lies beneath
my bed.