when I saw the eyes
of my first child
I knew that when I  
die, someday
sometime, someplace

I knew then that I will die
staring right into his eyes

if I might be
so lucky

I thought you were my bff, then I find out you're trash talking me! You berated me on Twitter. You posted my not so hot photos on Instagram. My boy friend just broke with me via text message. Apparently you have him thinking I am a ******. I would just get over it, but letting go has never really been my thing. I'm more of the Revenge type of person, but then you knew that already. I guess that's why I've been unfriended so quickly. Now that my social calendar is empty, I'll have lots of time the plot. Though I think you're not done with your ragging, it's that time of month for you is it not? So I'll kiss our BFF selfies goodbye as I delete most of my files. By the way you have some unimpressive photos so this might take a while. I can still feel the knife twisting in my back, so enjoy your moment of Glee. It won't be long the tables will be turned and you will no longer be ****-shaming me. So get yourself ready because I'm about to become that ***** that you always said I was. Don't try to deny you did it and ask pity from me. I don't know why you just didn't cut my throat you see.

If only there was someone
with which to share this.

I keep a private Scrapbook
You won't see on my shelf;
Stuffed with trivia from my life,
Known to no one but myself.

It's filled with words and actions,
Lies, cheats and thefts;
Nothing really serious,
But enough that I won't share.

Deeds I'm not proud of,
Words uttered to hurt;
Clippings from a checkered past
Sealed safely in my book.

There's some who'd like to read it,
Expose me for what it's worth;
They should proceed with caution,
They have their own Scrapbook.

Mars is red, an angry shade
With knuckles like
A sickle's blade

His right hook
has might in store
He lays her on
The threshing floor

There he whacks
The chaff from wheat
She's just a dog
For him to beat...

Mars is red
Venus is blue
Black as well
A nasty hue

Her friends tell her
To up & leave
For all the beatings
She's recieved

She stays down
On knees to pray
That Mars would simply
Go away...


He will not
She's bound to lose
Red & blue...
A purple bruise.



SøułSurvivør
4/20/2018

I’m sorry if you wanted something else;
A rubber stamp, a milquetoast or a sap.
I’m sorry my independent nature is
Like giving your face a hefty slap.
If it seems I am apologizing for myself
To make an excuse for the way things are
Trust me when I tell you what I am sorry for
Is that I have let this thing go on this far.

Dressing up in formal clothes
Won't make us into something fine.
As long as we believe a fantasy
Soon we will cross some kind of line.

I apologize for not recognizing the signs
That told me how you felt about love.
The idea that the two of us are equals
Was a thing you could not rise above.
You couldn’t accept truth was important
And only make what we had implausible.
The kind of relationship you wanted
Was not only wrong, but was impossible.

I guess it got easy for me to fake it
And walk around in a huge pink fog,
Pretending you were a handsome prince
And not accept you were another frog

I don’t believe the truth can be hidden
For but a very short while if at all.
To base a relationship on dishonesty
Will ultimately make the thing fall.
Yes, I ignored the messages you gave me
I’ve been through enough of this to know
That I was part of the reason we failed;
That this is the way it would have to go.

I can’t let you completely off the hook.
Your answers to my questions were a ruse.
I am not equipped with a fairy godmother.
I never had a pair of enchanted shoes.
But I was never wishing for a magic life
Just a hope that love could turn out real.
But one of us can never do it all alone;
Half of it will be about how you feel.

Dressing up in formal clothes
Will not make us into something fine.
As long as we believe a fantasy
Soon we will cross some kind of line.