As I lie here
With eyes closed softly
I think deeply of you
And I inhale stars
The scent of twinkling light
So fresh and alive
Sparkling gentle inside me
And I want to write this feeling
So tentatively
As it must be
Like writing words on bubbles
Delicate and precious
Begging them not to disappear
Like dreams in the morning

                                        By Phil Roberts

roses, roses
.
lay me down
on bed of roses
i like the white ones
so you’ll see me when i bleed
because of the thorns
or because of our love
.

I’m tired of lying that things will work out
I’m tired of telling myself that “Today will
         be the day”
I’m tired of drifting through this world
         feeling so alone
I’m tired of pretending I’m completely OK

I’m tired of learning how to be strong
I’m tired of striving to be something
         I’m not
I’m tired of putting my faith in the things
         unknown
I’m tired of hoping ‘cause hope’s all I got

I’m tired of slowly forgetting all of the
          good times
I’m tired of wondering if my chance at
          love is gone
I’m tired of waiting for someone to
          save me
I’m tired of singing, for I sing for no one

I’m tired of wishing she could love me
           the same
I’m tired of feeling as though I’ve
           forgotten how to feel
I’m tired of “best friends” that never get
           to know me
I’m tired of thinking any chance of my
           happiness is unreal

I’m tired of this world where both the
           light and the darkness reject me
I’m tired of realizing that my best is
           never good enough
I’m tired of being defined by factors
           that I’ve never controlled
I’m tired of making excuses for why all
            I do is ruin stuff

I guess what I’m trying to say is this:

I’m tired of being tired
And I’m tired of waking up

Do I sicken you?

Does your lip curl in repulsion as I cast aside my skin and invite you in?
Oh, what misfortune is mine that you would choose to dine with me!
Am I not a pretty spread, charred from toe to head?

Feast on me and be sickened.

With such disgust you mask your lust,
and I watch your tongue quiver, shiver, and shake--
Touch me and I will break in your fingers.
You see me as lovely and wild; and yet,
I am so very reviled by you.
Is my human mask too loose?
Would you fancy me in a noose?

Ah, such wonder we feel at what makes us ill, for hunger sets no limit.
Do you know when to stop eating?

Is your heart even still beating?

You made yourself sick.