When they get too close,
I swim away.
When they get too far,
my heart decays.
The sight of them
excites me, so.
The thought of loss
just gives me woe.
I long for someone
who understands.
Whether it be
a woman or man.
Maybe I'm just
a perfectionist.
Maybe I'm just
an objectivist.
So just like trash,
I throw you out.
Hoping that
new roots will sprout.
Someone please,
show me the way.
These nights are long;
my feelings sway.
Am I so exotic
that no one can impress?
Is love really tangible,
or is it just a mess?
I stand alone,
but strong - I stand.
I stand alone;
come hold my hand.

a white palette
is fine by me
my eyes and lips
are all I need
no painted face
or angel hair
no human race
can make me care
this is me
and I am fine
don't taint my face
just fill my mind

Never had a real best friend,
but I got myself a cat.
Never liked to be alone,
but I'm happy where I'm at.
Never had good taste in clothing,
but I've managed to look good.
Never did very well in school,
but I did the best I could.
Never really put myself down,
but lately I've been lost.
Never put a price on myself,
but I feel I'm paying a cost.
Never been too unrealistic,
but now I'm chasing tides.
Never had much head trouble,
but now I don't know how to thrive.
Never was very decisive,
but I've accepted my mistakes.
Never liked to have regrets,
but I love the lessons I take.
Never traveled far from home,
but I've done my part in the streets.
Never knew just what I wanted,
but I've got everything I need.

Just as the whiskers of a cat barely move from their place,
you will surely do the same;
for we are born as we are.
It is very rare that a whisker may fall off or be cut,
but it can surely happen;
and if it were to happen,
it was meant to be;
just as you are meant to be you,
and I am meant to be me.

She slides down the bed like a serpent on a tree.
She moves like the ocean, and she's coming for me.
Her hair is like silk, and her eyes are divine.
Her lips are so soft, and her **** is my shrine.
She dances so slowly that I have to weep.
She asks to come in, and I'll be hers to keep.
Her toes start to curl as I bite her powder neck.
Her scent keeps me sane, for I am a wreck.

Small and black, or maybe red
Tiny feet and a tiny head
If an ant like this were to walk into sight
I would let it be
**** it, you might
That is not me
That is not right
Because you are bigger, you think you are better
But life is life, and weather is weather
You could be born small some day
And when you are,
I hope they scare you away
Or maybe stomp on your flesh
You'll be small and black, or maybe red
But after they stomp,
You will be dead