Bukowski says poetry is not for the faint of heart. I feel a small ache as I turn another of his pages. What have I been neglecting? Myself, the words, the reality? The reality which the words showed me. Too much for a growing girl, growing in swirls, rather than up, just crazy. Same road again, almost every morning, anxiety. Awkward again, sick and angry boy. He breaks silence with ****** functions and doesn't like to repeat himself.
Okay, Bukowski, you're right.
Poetry is not for the faint of heart.
he art, she art, it will tear you apart... if you let it.

fearful seconds
overbursting
minute to minute
times grind
separating signs
weeks turn to months
turn to
dreams
again last night
awakening sight
as I closed my eyes
awake in my mind
unsure of what I'd find
while pleasantly surprised
blue waves and black holes
stars that've shown color
stripping away the white
but still glowing
reflecting forgiveness

it's nice to find
satisfaction
in hoping

it's nice to feel
my mind
opening

it's nice to see
a path
constructing

it's nice to know
everything
is fluxing

it's nice to be
me
and nobody else

it's nice to
finally
love myself

nothing comes to mind any more
everything goes and moves faster
too fast to catch, an unavoidable crash
we've clashed and separated, broken
another love for another life
whether we were ever friends
is the question
even though you prayed, "friends forever"

silence discomforts the demons within you
so you hum and sing and talk about nothing
to collapse whatever comfort my angels live in
you'd rather see me withering, wilted
so much beauty in death! so much beauty...

I tap my teeth together, click
I clench my jaw, tick tick
I clench my fist, thick tricks....
lying again, you're lying again
and I cry in your presence
salt water spelling out "stop this"
I bite my lips when I wanna kiss

tortured souls with tender hearts
can't mend one if the other is falling apart

blueberries
raspberries
blackberries
feed me cherries
I'm feeling daring
shut out of caring
music's blaring
strawberries
peaches
nectarines
you're in my dreams
morphing right in front of me
moonlight dusted, coarse,
untrusted.
tip tap toeing
tip tap
tipping over and drizzling,
sizzling steam
let me scream
because
no one is listening

seeing myself in the morning
only this one is different
not so lonely
more homely
comfortable
yet, unfamiliar
not so *****
more ****
confident
yet, restless

I want to hold on
to the best of this
lips pressed into
a kiss, one before
and after
another
never ending
it seems