Give me sugar

For the bitterness in my mouth

The rain in my eyes

The bricks in my nose

The ice in my touch

The sporadic bells in my ear



Give me sugar

I don't need it

I want it

I want it to strip out of the stuffy costume

I wear everyday

To be high on the chemical

Enough to be normal

No, enough to act normal



Give me sugar

For the fissure in my heart

I know I don't need it

I just desperately want it

Anger is a retort blocked by coercion

Like I want to just hate

And hate

And hate her eternally

I want to despise the sheer shadow of her

Until light is absent and the world drowns in shadow

I want the cruelty and bullying

The patronizing and lying

The hatred

To be fired in a beam right back at her

No, not waves

A beam

A powerful, blasting

Beam

That spews and spews every word of disgust she's shot at me

And bombard her with her own words

Let the pain fall on her like stones to the skull

To finally get through to her head

Finally for her to understand

I'm not just a lifeless shell

Although I know I'll be fine after her yelling,

I can only leave her yelling smiling

(The other option is crying)

Because she will not ever understand

No one will

Because her coercive power blocks my anger

My hormones

I despise them

Happiness

They accept none





I have ran

But not away

Out of sight

But not of mind

Still it stays although I try



Why I flee

From the misery

I create

With thoughts sedate

I do see how it's insane



Insanity

(Define, can thee?)

Does describe

All that incites

Acts of me to run and hide



Tooth crescents

Outshine darkness

Like the Moon

But yet it soon

Be destined uncovers gloom



Nervous eyes

Poetry writes

Itself and

Block off it can't

Silent cries nothing can stand



Oh! poems

The rules of them

None. But still

I fail to spill

Emotions that slowly ****





Insane is it?

To run from things to sate the cave

For fear of drowning again?

You say insane?

I have blocked it twice more before

So pushed light from going in?

It is insane?

Do things that I have done a ton

And wish for a different end?

Walk through the streets of Germany

Don't remember the sounds

Of the morning greeting town

Or of the brick path under me



Walk along the bronze statue bold

Bought in air to freeze hell

A trifle with walnut smell

Go to wherever I was told



Walk up all the apartment stairs

In coats, each cheese and breads

Then curl up into be my bed

And fall asleep without a care



Don't remember the stores or parks

Of wood and brick and stone

Or the nighttime view alone

And the icy sky full of stars



The plush of bedspread white and clean

Sharp windowsill cacti

The breeze blowing ice

Streams icicles on balconies

I need music

My earbuds are broken

Sometimes they work

And sometimes static

Really makes one

Appreciate it more

And crave it so

But just can't have it

Slow

My pace down to 90 steps a minute

Slow

My whistling to 90 beats a minute

Slow

My mind down to 90 thoughts a minute



Slow

And see the vast and cloudy sky

Slow

And hear the ruined silence in the rest

Slow

And hope that nothing's as bad as I see it



Slow

Appreciate the plain and gray

Slow

Whistle to my own blues

Slow

Hope that I didn't **** love up

The meadow was that of much beyond compare

Outlined by a blue line that cut off the air

Hardest soft brown eyes that set off a flare

The heat was worth being exactly right there

My Reason and Sense, the water did not spare

Until the sun set, and left the land all bare

Left me with nothing but at darkness to stare

And building wishes for the curtain to tear



But the Moon had risen, with luring brightness

Gave light to the water: then full with darkness

A colorful face crafted with such finesse

Such a light through my black; I could not wish less

Finite or not; loved the feeling regardless

But I was cursed at the same time I was blessed

Moons don't always shine, and it caused my great stress

So I parted the Moon, which I think it best

I'm thankful it had been there, nevertheless



I parted the Moon; the sun began to rise

And so did the flutter of the butterflies

And heated that which could have turned into ice

Roses in a field that was soaked in gold dye

Like the hue of the sun that flew through the sky

But I've forgot the joy I feel when I fly

And now I wonder, "Should I even try?"

'Cause each Day just leaves me with tears I can't cry