Lights on,
No sign of a camera.
Not tonight.
Three minutes of bliss,
Or three decades of love.
By all means pay for her bed.
Release.
If you must.

You do not pay with money,
But you pay for her bed.
A love built to last forever
Where time is paid instead,
You pay for it together.
Love is the word of the day.
Where two become three
The creation of a daughter.

Pay for her bed.
So small, so innocent.
Such ignorance of life,
Such bliss,
It's Heaven sent.
Pay for her bed
18, 19, 20 years strong
Daddy's little girl
Doesn't remember that long.

Pay for her bed,
That's what she said.
Lovers love,
Actors act,
One ring on one finger
A one-sided pact.
Beauty encourages such ugly things
A boat full of roses,
That one diamond ring.
Just at her scent
He pays for her bed.
Eyes once were white,
Now painted with red.
Just one more payment,
Surrounded by her scent.
Unable to repent.
Forever more
He pays for her rent.

I don't move,
I orbit.

I hopscotch the squares where love can be.
Where it has already been.
So,

I don't move [forward],
I orbit [to where I may belong]

I am homesick for everyone
I've ever met.

Most major decisions are based
on the statistic probability of a kiss,
because to be loved
is to be corporeal.

My heart doesn't guide me,
theirs do.

I follow my bloodlines
and shake the tree
for fruit.

This is how it goes:
With each breath I draw,
one for me
one for you.

Not that I have nothing to say
my words are meaningless in your presence

I have nothing to give
my worth is ashes around the fire,
the heat-waves around the sun
as you are the sun

I am an entity filled with desire
thousand and one desires in one
My belongings are grains of sand, washed away
at the touch of your oceanly waves
The heat of my soul, the energy in my eyes
all drained - courtesy of your coquetry

Drunken, weak, drained, and indigent
wondering if I stand a chance

silly me.

I am not a diamond
I am not glistening, not desired by many.
But I do think I might be coal
Seen as useful by some
*****, disgusting, polluting by others
And if you put me underground
The weight of the earth pressing in on me from all sides
Just maybe I could be something pretty, wanted.

Maybe I'm like black coffee
An acquired taste, not enjoyed by many
One even myself cannot stomach.
(What does that say about me?)
And I desperately fill myself with words and pictures
Soft and beautiful like gossamer and lace
All of the things I am not
In hopes that I will be sweet enough to drink.

Perhaps I'm a portrait, all broken brush strokes
And darkened shades of pthalos
And the voice drifting past say how beautiful it is
And how they can't wait to see it when it's done.
But it's already finished
They simply don't like to believe something that dark and eerie and broken
Is not a work in progress.

I guess this is just my fate
to be surrounded by people waiting for me to become something more than I am
Something less dark and broken
Something more delicate and beautiful
Something sweeter.
But they'll all leave in time
When they realize this is actually who I am
And that I'm not unfinished.

Just one day
Just one day I say
I take a breathe in
I blow it back out
I cannot fret over one day
I cannot
Count on me to doubt

People wonder why I'm crabby
Maybe because my mind is full
On the point of brimming over
I cannot describe the pull you have on me
It's strong and breaking

Maybe it's time to let go
Let you take care of yourself
We both know you can't
……Maybe it's time to let go……

Haha  oh I am funny arn't I?
Letting you go?
Then we would both cry
Letting you go...
And you just may die....