I look at you on the sofa.
Lying there all young, healthy
And warm, and I don't just want you
In the obvious sense; I want your
Liver, kidneys, flat stomach, strong,
Long, young legs.
Frankenstein's parts-storage
I want your youth.  

I can't have it. I can't take it
And have it. Angry. I want to
Kick your ***, but not really.
I want your mouth to
Expell something
Other than this
Teenage girl
Chatter.

I want to hit your pretty face
With all of my one-third-life-crisis-
Frustration behind it
With a pillow.
Eat feather, child!
Chew cotton!
Munch goose!

Straight left-straight right.
I have fought men
Twice my size,
I'll beat you up
Until you
Suffocate
And surrender
From
Laughing
So
Hard.

I want to leave my mark
in you
like you did
on me
all over,
so let's trade body parts.

The world is just a book
And each page is a new day
And each chapter is a new year
And I am just a measley character out of billions of others

I have a life that I am not fully living
And I'm supposed to be happy and I'm not
I play a small, unimportant part in a huge book
And when I get to my last chapter the book will continue on without faltering.

This world is just a book
And with each page comes a new day
And with each chapter comes a new year.
And I am just a character out of billions of others.

(a.d)

why is it when ever i say im sorry
no
one
ever
belives
me.......

the one who stares back at me in the mirror,
seems unfamiliar.
the type of unfamiliarity,
that is familiar.
it eats at me.
until I have disintegrated from the lack of rememberance.
from lack of knowing
what should be familiar.

A smile on my face
A flower in my hand
A special tender love in my heart
For you I wrote
This book of poetry...
written from my heart...
about love and life...