Hands where
They are not welcome
Against flesh too young
And too willing to please
Pushing to break the last barrier
That separates
Innocence
From exploitation
Lips parting what should be closed
Taking what is not theirs
And can never be given back
A body demands
As the other yields
Bending to its will
And calling it "love"

"just look up"
mama would say.
she always smiled when she looked up,
as if she were high on drugs,
in this case she was high on God.
she loved to look up,
when the times were tough,
she'd look up and cry,
quietly whispering words of prayer to herself.
looking up gave her hope,
it made me wonder how God,
could answer so many prayers at once,
did he ever stop to take a break and forget about us?
or stop looking down.

Batshit crazy,
Batshit soup.
Am I just lazy,
or caught in a loop?

Batshit crazy,
Owl **** soup.
Razor blades,
Razor blades,
Razor blades,
****.

Love is not a competition.
Love is not a game.
You see me as a player,
and it's a downright shame.

Batshit crazy,
Owl **** soup.
I am totally lazy,
and caught in a loop-die-loop.

Glass houses and baseball games
Angels wings and tar
SEPTA lines and pine trees
Can take you pretty far

Love is not a competition
Love is not a war
and acting like a soldier
is really quite a chore!

Silly souls and wacky words
Dragonflies and tar
I want to make some art with you
but I don't know how you are

it's
Just another slide
down the razor blade
of life into a bowl
of sour owl ****

Batshit crazy,
Owl **** soup.
Am I crazy,
or am I caught
in a loop?
Razor blades
Razor blades
Razor blades
****.

I emerge from the cocoon of your chilled form with music in my knowing smile. My heart blossoms and beats without restraint. There is a sweetness to the air I cannot place, an electricity, tangible on the stirring breeze. My eyes lift to the heavens, grateful for the lack of salt that has marred their vision for so many years. I am all. I am everything caught whirling in this softening glow, this haze of glory mine to keep for all lifetimes that pass in the blink of wondered eyes. I embrace the morning with a love unfettered and know that she is mine. This is freedom.

I can see the blank wall between our hearts,
the wall that was once filled with writings of our love,
reflections of our hearts,
the stories that made us reminisce and laugh about,
the memories,
hours spent,
the love,
the intense ***,
all of these have become a blank wall,
living our lives in separate worlds,
the world that we once fought together on our own,
has simply become a blank wall.
to afraid to face the truth of our dispersing hearts,
we continue to walk,
our own paths,
the blank wall between our hearts still continues to grow
an indication,
of our discontinuation,
to face the blank wall.