Her name is Loblolly, you
do say it quickly, see

the whole beach sticks to your tongue
she must often be told

Loblolly, please, drop what thing you have found-
   Like the Southeasterly tree?

Yep, like when spent, that conifer's cone
   By which you mean...ovally brown

Ha. Like her head.
  Plus, look, the way that her tail

Loblolly, Treat!
sends for the Sun
columnarly.

The dogwoods are red,
the redbuds are lunch,
Blackhaw unravels maroon,
the Sun is a charm borne of losses,

the crowned kinglet sings
a sound profoundly itself

a stormy midwinter, the flash and a bellow.

Your spring unwinds still
in bold flits like mourning cloaks
bright marigold wings
into abyss, you call out
Star yet stirred to shadows

Our hearts are hot plastic
They morph they're elastic
Our lips are sporadic
Like actions of addicts
And you are my habit
I can't stop from having

How can you hurt the one person you protect?

The one person you trust with all your heart not to break it.

How can you tell her she deserves the world, and then take it?

How can you proclaim your love with poems and songs and hugs, and passion, just to contradict it all?

How can you face your own reflection, while your identity is stuck with her?

How could I be the one who sunk you?

Who loved you, but dug you, deep into the Earth I said I’d give you.

How?

The answers lay with you, in your modest crown. I will find them there, and You will be my queen again.

Your Friendships fade and bridges burn with your fate; exposed is your grave.

Pictures holding wisdom cascade and scissors undercut your fame; exposed is your name.

Dread fills your brain and your as dead as you came; exposed are the stains.

Claims are feigned as your hope drains; exposed are the lies, and the dirt, and the drugs, and the darkness that's stayed dormant all your life.

Exposed is your mind, and everything that's made you Blind.

Empty
If you respect me, don’t caress me. Dissect me, and if you love it represent me.
I feel empty.
These lines I’m injecting of rhymes I’m perfecting define my repenting.
I feel empty.
I’m trapped in my mind, but no longer trapped when I rhyme. I can see all the flaws and the rawness in these times;
I feel empty.
You saturate my soul with passion and care, and defend me even In ignominious affairs.
You fill me up.
With joy and strength, and aspirations and ambition. You fill me with fervor and taste, and take away my inhibition.
You make me Ray.