Person Number One
Looks at
Person Number Two

Person Number Two smiles and
Moves a little bit
Closer

Person Number One returns the
Smile
And inches
Even
Closer

Person Number Two closes their eyes and
Puckers their lips
Leans in
And

Person Number One closes their eyes
Just the same
And, wouldn't you know it
Puckers and leans

Person Number Two's lips touch
Person Number One's
And they share
That first
Kiss

Smiles all 'round
Both of their faces alight
Thoughts of happy futures and
Secure days
Ahead

Fast forward
A year or so

Person Number One slams their car door shut
Gets out
Walks through a
Large parking lot
No one around
Except Person Number Two

Person Number Two rushes
Politely
Toward Person Number One
Her heels make little
clickclickclicks
As she moves closer and
Closer in

They are five feet apart now
Person Number One smiles
Person Number Two's heels clickclickclick
And as sure as they do
Person Number One and Person Number Two
Stride, slide and click
Right
Past eachother
Without even a
Second
Glance

how hard it is
to cut calloused skin.
how hard it is
to bleed the devil's blood.

come out come out - stop whispering my name
i cannot keep going on the borderline of sane
i cannot pretend that i want to play your game

i cannot believe what my eyes do not sustain

come out come out - stop shadowing your name
you cannot just stand there and hide beside your shame
you cannot belittle me against your naked frame

you cannot convince me that I am just the same

come out come out, i know you want to stay
but if you do i'm certain i will never see your face
i'll amount to nothing while you eat up all my grace

*and let you make a home in me to fill the empty space

How do you know that the pilgrim track
Along the belting zodiac
Swept by the sun in his seeming rounds
Is traced by now to the Fishes’ bounds
And into the Ram, when weeks of cloud
Have wrapt the sky in a clammy shroud,
And never as yet a tinct of spring
Has shown in the Earth’s apparelling;
O vespering bird, how do you know,
How do you know?

How do you know, deep underground,
Hid in your bed from sight and sound,
Without a turn in temperature,
With weather life can scarce endure,
That light has won a fraction’s strength,
And day put on some moments’ length,
Whereof in merest rote will come,
Weeks hence, mild airs that do not numb;
O crocus root, how do you know,
How do you know?

Internalize
what you love,
despise
desire
lose yourself, entire

yet don't dismiss
that inner tormented artist
when did we proclaim
that our dreams were unattainable?

The serpent of jealousy
slides through dusty veins
that trace your skeleton
so delicate

desire
to be empty
an addiction to the act of forgetting
yet you give permission
to your heart
you allow its hypnotic rhythm
to continually keep you up at night

rhetoric
is art
is falling
is free
unlike the cost
of loving what kills you
of loving
what is "me"

Beyond any language
I need the temptation
like rusted gears
turning in empathy
catharsis

taste iron and smile
for all the times you couldn't make it
yet still did
idiotic content
of the communal brain that we sustain
the sickness we maintain

Each day
i look at the skies
it keeps me in my place
just this man in the human race
a race that can not be won
and on those days i feel sad
but have to just start again
as each and every day i do
this is just how i am
Each Day.

Being rich
doesn't make you happy.
But...
Being poor
doesn't make you happy either.

What does bring happiness
is having enough money
to get by each month.

Not too little,
not too much
but just enough,
with a little to spare,
so you'll have no worries.

you don't understand me
but do you even care to try?
let me introduce myself
i am Sam
born into a winter wonderland, at the peak of the Christmas season, with the smell of pine and gingerbread
my mother was a brown-haired beauty who loved as much as anyone could
my father was a diligent working man, who secretly was a head-banger
or not so secretly anymore
i'm the youngest of two girls
my sister was considered a basket-case, until she moved us all with her art
each family has a child with a problem - or is a problem
i had a brain problem, i couldn't operate correctly and no doctor could find the time to find my instruction manual... but they did fix me, at some point
after i was the guinea pig who had to endure test after test and all of their wannabe God decisions
i was the girl at school who people thought came from France
i had an accent, they said
i told them, no
i was born here, under the stars, my mom telling me that the sky was mine to see and create
they laughed and would walk away
i could see it in their eyes
she's weird, they thought
they kept there distance for seven years, solitude fit me well
i had friends, three i think
but they all eventually left, and i was alone again
but, when i was nine, i found a pen and a piece of paper
and i wrote about how beautiful the flowers were
and how big the sky seemed, how lustful the wind seemed, and how i thought it was calling me
my parents read it and smiled, knowing i had finally found the thing that set me free
i wasn't good at sports, but i was a real bookworm
preferring characters to real people, because  Harry Potter was the boy that lived
and if he could survive the dark lord i would survive school and all the mean girls that came with it
they didn't take notice of me till i was fourteen and i got contacts and a gleam in my eye
i started to carry a book-bag and wear make-up and i instantly became "cool"
but i did not want their friendship, i had tried to be there friends a million times
always being shot-down because i was a "nerd" and everyone knew it was bad to be smart
because you had to have a brain to be smart and you had to think on a daily basis
on more than what we just learned in the classroom
i'm now a freshmen and i have four years until i can be free
let go from my birdcage and just fly above the world, touching the stars and reaching my dreams
oh, hi
i'm Sam
i can only be
me