The doctor closed the fist-shaped hole
Of your absence,
With little black knots,
"Come back in six months;
We'll check up on you"
I'm sitting on the table,
But there is no doctor.
There is me and there is you.
You're whispering
Sweet nothings into my ear,
And tearing my stitches out,
One by one.
I can see the hole again-
"Code Blue"
Only it's not blue,
Your eyes are green.
And I when I wake up later,
You're back.
I try to talk, but you interrupt-
you tell me I'm pretty.
"Begin compressions"
Blood is everywhere.
Months pass.
You are lying in bed next to me;
You kiss me on the mouth.
"Charge to 300"
You are gone.
Please don't come back.

Cherry lipstick
never a misfit
so hard to resist
once she gets you going you can't desist

Her hips move to side to side
couldn't look away if I tried
had me all wide eyed
when our worlds collided

Every moment with her is divine
my heart beats fast as our hands entwine
her sparkling eyes look into mine
and I am forever lost in time

ABC blocks
Piecing Legos together
All fun no worries
As years pass

Large puzzles
Watching cartoons
So many cool things in this world
As years pass

Riding bikes what a delight
Recess time is the best
Learning is so much fun
As years pass

Ugh I have to get up for school
This class is so boring
Can't wait until school is over
As years pass

I hate my life
But at least I'm done with school
Or not, time for college
As years pass

So much stress
I just want to quit but I can't
Why is life so complicated and unfair
As years pass

The older we get
The more we feel like life *****
But it will get better you will see
As years pass

shall we go way to reinvent   ourselves,

come back angry,                      writing

bitter words of                      discontent,

expecting other’s            understanding.

shall we write vile words              about

our  fellows, to them ,  hidiing in profile,

masking internet.               complaining

widely rather than deal, as we are    dealt.

shall lines deepen, etched in           glorious

bitterness, or shall we return quietly, remain

just the same?

sbm.

our thoughts are the ribbons
wrapped around the words like a bow
like a present of misgiving
that only the giving could bestow
it's hard to live with the living
when we die with what we know
it's the wit of the unwitting
it's the only gift we show

She reminds me of a girl from a Godard flick