There is a stranger sleeping on your floor
but you wanted an artist.
Beautiful things aren't easy.

I am tamed, comfortable.
You are wild.  Smoke slips over my nose
when I think of you.  
Alcoholic sweat, fingers down my throat
and I am North,
northbound.
Ivy League meets the Yellow Rose.

I have some bad news baby.
Writing in pencil wears thin
And a pen will just smear the words away.
You're angry and hurt.
Voices linger in their echos and your screams can't find a way to drown them out,
But shouting at an astroid won't make it turn tail and flee, so put on your gloves and grab something sharp.
The throats you may have to slit are only there to reload another round of insults.

Keep it up baby, get in my room and slide your dress off. Lets put that anger to some good use.

it was milk again last night arms sweating teeth on edge and whole body steaming lathered in crocuses

The world wanted to stop burning
but, our bodies supported
each stage of our shouted defense,
the room one wants to escape to.

Let’s teach one another
all the algorithms
of love.
We can balance
the chemistry
and learn each other’s
foreign languages.
We can walk down the hallways
of each other’s minds
and I can carry your literature.
I will learn the beat
to your music
and you can jot down notes
about the anatomy
of my heart.
Let’s meet in the
solitude of the library
so I can study your history
and
when the time is right,
we can explore the geography
of one another.

Some nights,
I dream of my father's fists,
or the blue-green color of his eyes
and how they watered,
became oceans,
when he'd had too much to drink.

There was a galaxy inside of him,
a great, gravitational mass.
He opened his mouth and swallowed worlds;
became a death-eater,
teeth biting down into a swollen black tongue.

When I was a fetus, I felt him pulling,
so I gnawed my way out of my mother's womb.
Covered in her blood, I met my adversary.
I dove into the sea to stare him down,
but could scarcely remember my amniotic swimming.

I drowned. My lungs filled
with the emptiness of space,
and for ages I floated, unmoored,
drifting by stars forever unimpressed with me.

One day, the universe will collapse,
time flying backwards toward its end.
I will see him as he was when he was new,
a stardust embryo not touched by awfulness.
I will know what it means to love.

The reason I don't wear makeup
Is that I don't want there to be
Anything on my face
That distracts you from Me.
And no, I don't look pretty
Buried beneath the layer
Of foundation and gloss.
Because then, I'm barely there.
Only when unadulterated, untouched,
Does my skin look perfect,
Adorned with the best rouge there is-
Which is, my Self.