love is just an illusion;
                                               a parallax you may say

You sit at your screen
fingertips flying in the face of decency
like a spigot attached to a vat of arsenic
dripping your poison, slowly, surely into the ears of the unthinking.

You justify the burnt skin, the orphans, the unending torture as deserved.

Deserved?

How can it be so?

Go tell the orphan, scarred and screaming that her fate was deserved.

Go stand beside mass graves and thumb your nose at the deserving corpses, stained by the blood of ages.

Where is your heart? 
does it choke and sputter,
buried beneath your all encompassing loathing?

You call me stupid, maybe so,
my views naive, my compassion wasted
yet my heart beats proudly, swells with love 
while my tired eyes drown at the unfolding horror.

War is not a spectator sport,
it is not justifiable, nor deserved.

Call me stupid if you will, ridiculous if you must
call me any number of names in your attack on my spirit
I will not care, I will not bend or bow.
Your hatred will be your undoing.
Not mine

she is tired of crying for help into a void;
now between the sighs behind her commas & full-stops,
she communicates through her SILENT fingers
and as long as her pen bleeds on a blank paper
the turmoil in her mind rests
the sunless day feels more brighter
the moonless night a bit less darker
deadly stares from strangers does not bother that much
as long as she gets to read and write,
she knows things will be just fine

You are everything.
I know people come and go,
but i want you to stay
you are everything to me
Everything from my smile in the morning to the smile right before i sleep.
You're the shiver that runs down my spine
the light at the end of the tunnel.
You can be the sun and i can be the horizon
we'll collide and create something astonishingly beautiful
You're perfect, its thats simple and that complicated.

She felt his words enter her soul
As he traced every inch of her skin.
'beautiful' he whispered delicately.
She drifted in and out of realities and daydreams,
Consciousness and unconsciousness.
He stayed gazing at her pure beauty.
Her body was made for his eyes.
Her lips were made for his lips.
A perfect fit.
They lay there for the day.
Talking.
Laughing.
Crying.
They learned each others secrets.
They opened up their pasts.
They planned a future together.
And after all this they fell asleep.

She woke in the morning with a sickening feeling in her gut.
He was gone.
She was too terrified to roll over.
To see the indent of him on those sheets.
She feared that she'd suffocate on the oxygen he'd used up the night before.

She reached one arm cautiously over to the other side of the bed.
Felt his wonderful skin
Laying next to her.
She let out a sigh of relief.
He meant it.
He did.
He meant every word.

He woke with a sleepy gaze.
'beautiful'
He whispered as he kissed her forehead.
Inhaled her scent.
And for the first time in a long time.
This broken hearted train wreck really did feel....
Beautiful.