imagine a world
where every season
was even more silent
than the one before

from mother’s purpureal
ruby berries
we nourish ourselves
consuming her tincture of life

my heart is heavy with love
the kind i want to give
but the kind you don’t deserve

There’s no one else
Id rather be tethered to
As I climb life’s mountain.
He is the wind in my sails
and the anchor that I cling to.
He is the one I turn to for guidance
The needle in my compass.
He is the earth to which Im firmly cradled
Bound by his gravity
to be vitalized by his air.

when i see a spider
or i see a snake
i am shackled by fear
and frozen into place
but when i imagine
how the beasts must feel
they’re terribly afraid
to be crushed by my heel
they shield themselves with courage
by channelling their fears
emitting the strongest will to live
on a frequency no one else can hear
so when im feeling down
or feeling out of place
i imagine myself
as the spider and the snake

i love the way that trees
dance in the wind
every little branch swaying
to the song of a different tune
every wooden limb letting go
of the leaves they carried
once nurtured, grown, & cared for
now flying away
with the rhythm of the breeze

the days got better
little by little
until i started to feel like
sunshine

i wanna be high,
ascend to the sky,
climb to the top & then take a dive.
fall like a star while the world watches by.
im just a bird who never learned to fly.

i never thought your words
could be so incendiary,
and ignite in me the person
who I’ve never had to face.
the one who always hides her face.
the one who cowers away
from the spotlight of your inward gaze.
but you sir, have shifted me
if ever so slightly.
and i do believe now
that the person you see
is the person i was meant to be.

nicotine gets me high
an electrifying rush
shaky feeling in my limbs
that i just can’t get enough
i’m not sure if i like it
but i keep taking puffs
and littering my lungs
with cigarette butts

my best friend is my right hand guy.
tending my needs
sharing bad dreams
catching post traumatic tears.
anytime,
every time,
except when he’s beneath me
my thighs sandwiching his ears.

my best friend is the guy on my right.
shoulder to lean on
always by my side
like honey to a bear.
anywhere,
everywhere,
especially when we’re driving
seeing that my eyes are the better pair.

my best friend will always be the right guy.
tried and truest
whatever’s ahead
in my corner he stands.
there will never be anyone,
or anything,
that will ever hold a candle,
a flame,
or an everlasting blaze
to my right-hand man.

unbelievable cries
indescribable squealing
torturing, tumbling, free-wheeling
through an endless dark demise

a hole in the world!

There’s nothing safe about your affection
when it’s followed by your sheets
strangled round my neck,
begging & pleading.
For the love of god stop eating.
You’re attracted to perfection
and it’s pretty ******* ******
if you ask me.

What flaws of yours can I have?
Or could I even have my own?
But if you hate me now like I hate myself
then I’d be better off alone.
And I’ll probably dump your stupid ***
over something not worth fighting for
but I’ll live through hell for 3 more years
if you say that you love me more
than that ******* *****
you were crushing on for 6 months
though I doubt she’ll ever give you a rub
I know you’ll always want one.

wherever she goes she shakes the earth
screaming echoes down the hall
feed me! feed me!
whipping a storm of hair & terror.
she makes you feel belittled, battered,
like you never really mattered,
until her hungry eyes feasted upon your subservience.
my scariest, hairiest lady.
my dearest, fearless child.
she doesn’t need nobody
unless she wants somebody.
kagome, monarch of her mother’s smile.

I am on a journey
with mostly unknown destinations
but I know that with every step
I will guide myself in becoming
an exceedingly finer version of me.
I am forging a path
where the fruits of my future
eclipse the poisons of my past.

your green eyes can’t deny
the lies that lie behind
every little compliment
was slander in disguise
your green eyes cannot hide
what’s going on inside
poems wheedling from your lips
taste more like mythic alibis

if i traced the outline of your tattoo
underneath my fingertips
could that be my excuse?
to feel your skin
and make your senses
tremor at my touch.
would that be too much?
would you call that love?

The mind is a kettle.
When the world burns her *** a little too hot
she gets heated; steams & screams.
Yeah, it comes off aggressive
but all this means
is she’s ready to spill the tea.

What are we having tonight?
Soothing sleepytime
or a green caffeine?
That depends…
Does the kettle ponder patiently?
You can’t rush a good brew!
Achieving quality bitterness is time consuming.
The longer she steeps, the stronger the truth.