counting blossoms
can't smell them, not through the cold
few hundred on this tree
few more at my feet
tragic
last thing we need
is for spring to die young

I miss you when you're gone
I can feel you miss me too
But the image of your face
In my mind pulls me through

when will i care
when will i care
when will i care
when will i care
when will i care
when will i care
when will i care
when will i care
when will i care
when
will
i
care
when. will. i. care
WHEN WILL I CARE
WHEN   WILL   I    CARE.

last night i woke up from a nightmare.
my boyfriend of 2 years knocked on my door,
held a colt 45 to my chest,
smiled,
told me "i love you baby"
and pulled the trigger.
i didn't die,
no, that would be too easy.
i stood there, bleeding and hopeless
and watched him pull the trigger
with the gun to his temple.
the twisted thing is,
watching hurt more.

The crimson fire licks the night air
It flickers and whips out in excitement
Spitting out crackles of flame
Cradled in its fiery embrace is her
Engulfed in a pool of bloodshot blaze
It captivates my gaze as I watch intently
A picture of the girl burns violently
It fades into a black scar
Yet the memory will never burn

You're holding back tears in your eyes
That's when I realized
I made some giant mistakes
Wanting to burn my past sentences and comments at the stake
Aspiring not to be a flake
I'm not going to push anything and see how much you can take
I'm going to erase the lines we put in the sand
Hopefully the rest will understand.

How could I want the art of poetry to be dominantly white and male?
There's way too female poets of color and white female poets that ate much better than I
I couldn't live peacefully in the old days with that being apparent
My intentions are transparent
I think women are better with their words
I'm just an intimidator I feel
But it only takes one for these lines to congeal
Art is a three course meal
And it should not be overlooked
She fills up my stadiums and gets them overbooked
How could I want poetry to be white and male?
The elitist mindset is *******
There's far too many female poets who deserve a trophy of gold
And their hearts to heal.
And there's also too many male poets who don't deserve the image of elitism.