That's the thing about her,
She'll burn her needs just to give warmth to your wants,
She'll love you in times even when she's drowning in her own unsaid rants....

"She was a stranger in her own life ,
A tourist in her own body ."


-Melissa de la cruz

It's a blessing and a curse,
    this connection that we share
A balance between the love we feel
        and how much we should care

Drowned and drenched,
Kissed and felt,
Gazed and touched,
With heart so broken and melt,
Eyes blinked and closed,
I plucked it with both pleasure and guilt,
Deep and damaged,
The passion that I could never re-built,
I crushed it to make my soul feel blissful and loved,
It was a flower so precious more than my world and wealth.

you weave a sickly web
I was just a little fly
you beckoned me in and wrapped me up
and left me there to die
i know that you are blind
and truly so was I
your sticky threads were glistening
but they were just a lie
my body perished, but I've been reborn
and now I see you clear
small predator, you'll scuttle
when I'm the one to fear
you've a spool and cunning mind
and patience lasting years
but I've got eyes, a sharper mind,
and no more time for tears

She died, no one asked if I was ok.
I had to pack her stuff up and put it in the garage, I guess they thought that would wipe her existence away and make it seem like she was never here.
She was here though, she touched my life.
A life was lost, no one cares.

Made love to the puddles
Formed by imaginary friends
Imaginary rain clouded minds
Imaginary people
Imaginary boundaries
Keeping ones heart away
Ripping
Tearing
Bursting at the seams

Water pours into a glass
A pessimistic stream
Filled to the brim
But claims a half empty life
Uncovering skeletons
Digging up a half buried knife

A body a waterfall
Pressurized, cascading
A river of consciousness
Floodgates, brainwaves
High tide, kisses the shore
Like clasping clammy hands
Nervous souls
Too afraid to try
Too afraid to dive
Not afraid to die