How to prevent
A military autocracy?
All you need is a little
Government secrecy.
Fight your wars with shame and lies,
And watch: people throw up peace signs.
The paradox of patriotic suicide,
Is the elixir of democracy.

I want to see,
I want to be,
everything that you feel.
everything that
I couldn't understand to feel
through the hot embrace of
sympathetic empathetic enthalpy

Through the heat,
we shall see
everything that there is to be
(with things words can't free)
all of the sadness or madness you couldn't decree

With the best form of chemistry,
I hope to alleviate it
with
Sympathetic Empathetic Enthalpy

I'm sinking farther into the sea
Air cut off, unable to breathe

But it's not all too bad
The water's warm
and the fish look nice

It's a shame I can only see this
By myself
at the end.

IF THIS BODY
WEREN'T MINE
WOULD I STILL
HATE IT?

"I've missed your voice."
I've missed singing you a song
even if I am off-key
You indulge in my whims
and caprices
and loved me anyway
You kissed me under that stairwell
when I said something weird.
I loved how your palms
cupped my cheek
that nanosecond between
our first kiss
how your eyes danced
with bliss
reflecting mine

Now I watch you fall in love
with someone else
How could a heart like
mine ever be okay with that?
I watch you watch her
I watch you smile at her
I watch you adore her
I watch you as your
eyes danced
at the sight of her.
Has it been like that with me?
I hope someday you'll
watch me fall in love too.

your affection waxes and wanes like the moon
but unlike her
you come and go in no discernible patterns
you leave me parched for a glimpse
you let me glut on your presence
i sit shrouded in the dark
with my heart in my hands
and a telescope of yearning

the x wife calls
tells me the children miss me.
her voice
a mirror of broken glass
fragments falling into
the touch of sadness
from her fingers
the soft laughter
of her eyes like a candle
in the night

tonight
twilight comes to play
whispering in my night
quick as life
I hear the sadness
quick as life
I can hear the regret

I 've wounded you

I can only be
what I was
meant to be

I am the candle without the wick

excuse me, i tell her, i've got to go.

nothing like going back
to the golden days
when getting up 20 minutes earlier
was a fun thing
to put on a bit of mascara
and lipgloss;
the blush was natural.
now 20 minutes of sleep
seems like a treasure,
worth everything
and never to be given up.
back when laughter was sunflower yellow,
music was neon blue,
and friends were a sweet purple,
their smiles like lavender
addicting and easy to find.
nothing like going back
to the golden days
when choosing the font for a paper
was an hour long experience;
the funnest part of writing anything.
now no writing matters
to anyone
unless it's 12pt font,
Times New Roman,
double spaced,
and with a heading in the top left corner.
back when school was light,
homework was a breeze,
and the only thunderstorms
were those that involved
coffee shops, window seats,
and copious amounts of hot chocolate.
nothing like going back
to the golden days
filled with warmth
and honey
and a whole lot of butterflies.