I hung up my body on the
ceilings made of cracks
Grease stains
from the leaking tears
upstairs
Kick back the chair I used to sleep on
Curled up like the cat down the road
I put one hand in my pocket,
one hand on the noose
and choke like pigs who hang
throats slit with the strawberry jelly
dripping
down my mouth
wiping the corners with the tip of a
White napkin, with
White hands
crumpling it like Milk containers
Styrofoam to be thrown in the waste
land of the free
Land of the *****

They boiled my bones in a crock ***
They hung me up by my two back legs
and left me to dry over bloodied graves.

They put me in the fridge for days then slapped me
on a table made for six and they prayed around me,
thanking me for my sacrifice
I never sacrificed anything.

They caught me and watched me
suffocate between rusty lines of rope, slicing my fragile fins
They put me in a fish tank, while huge eyes tapped at my face
and called me cute, though I could barely take a breath.

They stuffed me in a cage full of other sufferers
taking us out one by one,
skinning our coats for their own.

Just profit.
Just a quick bite.

When the sky has molded over in pollution and our shoes get
stuck in the swamps
the Earth will still bless us with forgiveness
fully knowing we did this
We let the tides consume our dissatisfaction
but they still let us swim naked in them
Our rain forests losing family one by one
they have eyes you know
they see you, you know
we're killing our air supply
we use them disgracefully yet they still lay low
covering your head when the rain decides to give the soil a drop of purity
An unrequited love this world is
and the evil it implodes us with, is the anger
it has been waiting to emerge
Can you blame her...
giving us a piece of what years of us not caring tastes like
She, the woman in blue, emerald hair as long as the rivers may flow
tried to show the world magnificent sunsets and
mountain tops peeking out of the clouds and
the ocean as vast as the desert land
and the animals
we must let them be
the intelligence they withhold, the beauty they bellow
yet we do not give gratitude
we do not clean up our messes
we live in our pristine houses
drawing the curtains
She, this Earth, this Woman has brought us life and we have kicked it aside
We have forgotten to love
and it's bigger than you think.

Does the crimson rose grow through my heart now...
Will it crumble on top of my gravestone
Will it lose its pedals after I have breathed upon it
I can't sustain it.
I've chatted with the trees, they've held me. My grandpa did the same. though I will never remember.
I rest my head on the damp moss, as i laid my cheek on his. against my ear.
I only hear the worms moving on by
living the simplest of lives
I must say, I've never been so curious of the other side
Ironically, that's what keeps me going
I'm saving the last piece of chocolate on the shelf for when my heart is to finally bleed