I'm walking barefoot on nails
Across the earth for you
Because you hold my heart
And my shoes

I'm addicted to
RED lipstick
fishnets
cigarettes

I fall in love with
wit
intelligence
arrogance

I need
passion
love
arguments

I feel
insane
hysterical
elated

She is
everything

A B C D F...what defines us?
Stupid letters staring at me screen, I never knew a letter could scare me.
Why am I so strung out?
The little letter gives me anxiety
migraines, back aches, sleep deprivation.

A is for Acceptable
B is for Barely okay
C is for Cannot believe how stupid you are!
D is for don't bother coming home
F is for Failed out of this life.

I can do it.
I can do it.
I can do it.
Can I do it?
Can I do it?
Can I do it?
I cannot do it.
I cannot do it.
I cannot do it.

Tell me one more time why it is worth it?
College? Intellectual? Brilliant?
Can I still have that without the perfect little letter?

One more night writing this paper.
One more Algebra problem.
One more History report.

My will is breaking.
I stay up day and night crying.
I forgot how to relax.

Thank you to my little letters
for forever defining who I am.

There is no one around.
Not a breath.
Not a whisper.
Not a soul.
Isn't it lovely?

Everything is still.
Frozen in the moment.
Frozen in space.
Frozen in time.
Isn’t it liberating?

The voices inside are screaming.
Nowhere to run.
Nowhere to hide.
Nowhere to escape.
Isn’t it peaceful?

There is a mysterious desire to being completely alone.
No body to speak to.
No place to be.
No one to be.
Isn't it worth it?

Hurt
Charm
Pain
Plead
Make me want you more
Scream
Cry
Smash
Love
It is what I live for

Sweet to the taste
Red to the eye
Give me a kiss
Or I may die.

Obviously, what being Catholic means
is that I am going to have God **** you in your dreams
if you are not white or straight or perfect
you shall be ****** to the burning pits of Hell.

Us Catholic girls, we know are place,
in the kitchen cooking and cleaning up after out husband and 10 kids.
As for the gentlemen, they know how to live.
They work and are the boss of the house.

We go to Church and pray
and ask for our sins to be forgiven (even though we NEVER sin).
The angels grace us with perfection
and give us rights to shove the Bible down other's throats.

So I guess you were right all along
about the way every single Catholic is.
We are all the same like Gospel singing robots
and if you do not get the sarcasm in this poem
it is you I pity.

life is all about perspective
what have I done?
maintain my sanity.
optimistic.
polite.
worn out, burnout
worry about
control.
so different.
I am a daughter
I adjust as needed

My love for you is like a rainy day
It may seem dreary until you go and play in the rain.

Excuse me?
No...that was awful.
Let me try again.

My love for you is really like this poem
Pitiful yet amusing.

Because apparently it is not okay to laugh at poetry
Rather sit and shed a lone tear at the emotions it brings.
Honestly, that just entices my humor more.

Can we shed ourselves of these ridiculous allusions of torture and strife?
Maybe just be decent.
I admit to being a victim of self victimization, but that ends tonight.

Down with the ****** black queen of despair.
Down with the frivolous poems of tears.

I request a dance,
though I am not very good.
I tend to stumble, I have no rhythm.
Maybe I should just retire to reading books.

What could possible entrance me enough to go away,
with someone who fell in love with me?
Will it be captivating eyes or hypnotizing charm
that pulls me back every time a pull away?
Maybe someday I will know.

I am often left speechless by the things people say.
The words drip off their tongues as thick as cement or a smooth as milk.
Every lie and every truth, all said the same.
Stumbling or slick, others engulf it.
I love to listen to the words they say.

Sometimes I wish I could **** a man.
Or a woman, I don't discriminate.
To feel the blood on my hands would be lovely.
After, I would probably weep.

These things I think prance in my mind.
One thought devouring another.
The process of how I think is my own.
But you can join me on my journey of whatnot.

The turkey shot out of the oven
and rocketed into the air
It knocked every plate of the table
and partly demolished a chair
I think this is now plagiarism. Whoops.

It was only a matter of time.
Things slow down, candles blow out.
So much similar in being so different.
You say I am too forgiving. That stops today.

With a click of my heels I am away from you.
With a blink of an eye we are apart.
Memories are erased from my mind.
Easier gone and forgotten than just gone.

Easy as pie to cut the connection.
It is only because I refuse to hate you.
You call me names and curse my presence.
Yet, my demeanor stands.

Hatred nor love remains.
Just the sloppy leftovers from our friendship.
An insult here and inside joke there.
Not relevant but still there.

My time with you was no less than difficult
because we were trying to fix what was crumbling before us.
Sometimes, you just have to let the tower fall
if you ever want to build a new one again.

Are flitting in my **** heart again.
Rip off the wings.
(like that will help)

They drop to my stomach and fly around.
Puke them out.
(they'll be back)

They pull me to you every time I try to turn away.
Crush them.
(good try)

It does not matter what I try.
Burning.
Slashing.
Destroying.
Because those **** butterflies will always fill my soul.
Will you please stop putting them there? \
(probably not)

If you have the time
come sit next to me
I will tell you stories
and things you couldn't believe.

I will make you smile
on days you want to cry
I will be delighted
to be with you day and night.

I will walk with you
through storms of trouble and pain
darling, you can take my hand
if you are going insane.

I will call you my love
and tell you everyday
how much I adore you
and forever will I stay

All I ask of you
Is that you hold my heart  safely
So if it is convenient
would you fall in love with me?

One more cigarette
Make the pain go away
**** in nicotine
I will want it more

******* kisses with the smoke
Watch it go down in a flame
Disgusting habit made beautiful
So light it up again

You are my cigarette
You have me hooked with nicotine
I know you are slowly killing me
But I will ask for one more every day

Arm up, leg down
Move me anyway as you take hold.
Because you were the one who spun
My strings made of gold.

The thought occurs everyday
To regain my own control.
But I fight the urge to cut loose
Because beautiful are my strings of gold

It does not matter if you are made of stone
I do not care if your heart is cold.
You can always make me dance
As long as my strings are gold.

A love poem simply does not apply,
for that would imply that I am tolerant of the affections I have.

Alas, I am shamed and rather miffed at the so called delight of nature,
preferring to rather have my eyes pecked out by crows then suffer through heartache.

Not by my own choice do I look over yet again to where you sit,
hoping, praying for merely a glance in my direction.

The hunger is never satisfied.
The heart is never full.
I will never again feel alright.
All my colors are now dull.

Why, pray-tell, must I swoon at every word you speak?
Why must intelligence graze your lips and make my head swirl?

I must tell you, before I take my leave.
That my love is not by choice,
I will do everything in my power to be liberated.

Maybe you should join the monster under the bed.
He is afraid of the dark, too.

Making love
*******

Passion
Love

Courage
Stupidity

Hearing
Listening

The fine line is up to you to draw.

Could you believe I'm a Catholic girl
living in this ***** world?
I've been called a ***** and a bigot.
They change there minds when they see it's girls I kiss.

I guess people just don't see
that this little Catholic girl
Can kick ***, make a mistake
and still have time to make it to Church.

If you combine every cliche in the book
It wouldn't compare to how I feel for you.

Because I want to love you
And **** you in your sleep.

Goodbye again.
I really need to go.

You will not miss me.
I will feel a knife in my heart.

I am leaving once again.
You say something amazing.

Once again I am pulled back to you.
Like a bird is eventually pulled back to earth.
Does that make you my world?
Or just my hell?

Of course.

                                                  You could love me.
I can make.
The world seem.
Like a dream.
                                                  In bed.
I will tell you stories.
                                                 You might drown.
In the lovely words in your head.
Place your faith.
In my hands.
I will show you.
Distant lands.
                                                I will lie.
with you.
Keep you safe.
With me.  
Just put your.
Hands in mine.
                                                Do not.
Ever leave.
And Darling.
                                               Trust me.
I will tell you.

                                               The true story.

My dear child, everyone knows
if you do not listen to your mother and father
to Hell you will go.