hours of isolation in quiet company,
                                                       ­    though, they never seem to appear
                                       as much to your eyes
                                                            ­                 as they have to mine.
                                        *the humming of the television,
                                                    ­                                   dully lulling the visions in the mind
                                       into the shapes
                                                                ­         they're made for;
                                                          ­    searching synapses and relapses
                                                         for just another answer to the mystery
                                                         ­                                                                 ­    to what's going on,
                       here in my dreams.
                                                         ­     the company stays after i've left,
                                                           ­   as they find it comfortable there,
                                                          ­            stuck; subconsciously
                                                ­                     segregating themselves.

i feed her my words
like you'd feed someone sick
the pills as their ailment

i feed her my love
like you'd feed a baby bird
its life frail and in lament

the mother's dead
the baby's chirping
the birds all say
that this is working

i feed her my ideas
like you'd feed a toddler
with spoon in hand; shakingly

i feed her my death
like you'd feed the poor
standing on corners, begging; incessantly

this is working
i believe it now
i see it working
but can't see how

i feed her life,
as you'd feed me.
i feed her knowledge,
and set her free.

lazy love it was
as we for hours laid motionless
together
naked
naked of fear
naked of care
yet fully clothed in love
the only clothes I ever wanted to wear
were **yours

I couldn't help but let my mind wander,
And amongst the tall trees and broken shade,
My bare feet stumbled upon the place
Where you decided to grit your teeth and become something else,
Someone else.
I wish I could have been there when your skin thickened and your tongue bled.

I wish I could have been there when you learned a new language
And decided to only speak in tongues that even you couldn't understand.
I couldn't tell you things anymore;
I couldn't tell you about rich people who spend their money to help the poor,
And I couldn't tell you that sometimes,
Your parents fight in front of you and you think that its all your fault but its not, and you're okay.
You're okay.
I could only tell you that your fingers felt like needles against my skin,
And that it hurt when your pressed your lips against the tiny tears on my shoulders
And down my back.

I think you got angry,
When my eyebrows furrowed, trying to understand.
You were frustrated because I couldn't roll my tongue or my 'r's.
You were mad,
Because our eyes were different shapes and my top lip was paler than my bottom.
Maybe my nose was too crooked, maybe the lines in the face made me look tired.

You broke me into a hundred pieces,
Because with every ******,
You claimed you were my savior.