I want to be a little crazy.
I want to be crazy beautiful.
I want to be beautifully creative.
I want to be creatively inspiring.
I want to inspire those who want to be a little crazy.

From my temporary calm
I hear the glass clink on granite counter top.
The drops of devil’s liquid
And the swish of gluttony
Around the glass carriage
Sounds like nails in my ears

The limits of consumption have long been passed
Her character is burned in my mind;
The same person every night,
Her drooping face, eyes glassed over
Hair misplaced by too many touches
And her clothes are dragging away from her body

Her eyes scream goodbye
Spoken words slip with devil’s tongue
They bounce back and forth
And swirl in circles with no conclusion.
She looks like a fool and she sounds so mean.

Addiction and sin
Have captured her soul
And I’m such a fool
To think I’d ever have a permanent calm.

It is the morning drag
Another day alive
"I wish i was dead."

Puffing on a cigarette
staring blankly at the wisps of smoke
I wonder, "Where did I go wrong?"

Everything seemed perfect
Wrapped in his arms
Running around in our underwear

I would hold him against my skin
Never wanting to let go
Only wanting to feel his 5 o'clock shadow.

Days of laughter
Becomes weeks
Fights never lasted more than a day.

Everything seemed perfect
like a dream I've always wanted
My romantic comedy was real.  

Then the rose colored glasses broke.
I saw the black and white
You saw everything wrong with us.

I took the heart emoji off his contact name
Packed memories in boxes
He took the final decision: "It's over."

Everything seemed so perfect
Until reality decided to play
And all the perfect moments forgotten.

Mankind has one thrill;
Questions without answers.
For if there are answers,
There are no more questions.
Without questions,
Mankind loses their purpose.
Fill the void and figure out
Why we are here and for how long.

Oh, how would it be...
to have a body
you never touched?

Would my skin not flake away?
Would my eyes stop pacing...
Only to avoid you?

Soft skin is always missed
But the throbbing between my thighs
Will forever stay; unforgotten

I wish to feel pleasure
Where there was pain
As he touches my curves...

Six months with someone new
And my my mind still disappears
In the blue sheets.

Oh, how would it be
To have a body
You never touched...
And Instead he did.

I'm tired of being told to grow up;
I don't want to grow...
I want to bloom, to blossom
In the most exotic place.
I want to separate my cement barrier
And start my reign over the abandoned.

I want to add beauty in this bricked place.
I don't want to be confined
underneath conceited government.
I am self-governing
I am forever changing
forever a beautiful flower.

I am no leader
But I am my own path
That will not be blocked
by the judgment of closed windows.

In the most exotic place
I will bloom
If you are looking for me
Follow the trails of golden petals
I leave behind.

Every creek
Jolts my head
And every step I make
turns into Thunder

Behind every door
lies a monster with Claws
and in the dark corners
wait hungry shadows.

They're always on my back
Waiting for me to drop my guard.
I continue to fidget,
slowly waiting for time to pass.

Quietly I listen to the silence
waiting to hear the Devil's call
but i hear voices; Murmuring.
Am i being tricked? Or is someone Here?

I am from a thousand daydreams.
I see fairy dust lingering in the sunlight,
dancing around me, opening a world
of two massive castles against a lunar sky.

The battle bell rings,
And the fight for power begins.
Two different armies,
using magic and strength, to gain control.

I am from the leader of kings,
and i am the warrior princess,
with the power to win,
and the heart to rule.

The fire fury in the warriors' eyes
sends chills down each spine,
The last battle cry and the final slice,
ends the war, in my favor.

I am from the triumphed bevy
of gleaming armor and the perspiration of power.
My people cheer to the angels above,
as the sun rises, washing away, the ****** sky.

Shards of the body-length mirror
Are pressed firmly in the skin.
Blood dribbles down on the
Snow spotted coffee table.
Dragging the blade of glass
Across the wrist is now
An everyday, effortless need.

I'm sorry that the eyes can't see
That broken mirrors still shine
And that pieces are easier to swallow than a whole depressing picture.

Broken glass still shine in the light.
And flowers don't bloom with out the sun.
You are not wilted and you are not broken...lean towards the healing light.

I've fallen in love with Self-Deprecation.
I found her teetering the edge
of Self-Destruction

Testing Her limits with every acquaintance.

She lets Her life hang in the doorframe
either land on her feet
or the knot takes Her name

Teasing bad decisions with Svedka soaked sexts.

I've fallen in love with inception.
I left Self in an echo of a room
against cement bricks of incarceration.

I'm more open
           More free
     Than you thought
I could ever be.

I've won battles.
      Fought for my convictions.
Taking my life by storm
      Proving you wrong.

Remember your doubt?
            I was so compliant.
        But now, you underestimated
How strong I am without you.      

I am winning the war
         Defeating every
         Manipulative *******
That thought I couldn't **triumph.

I wanted more for you
than I wanted for myself.
But you showed me
You didn't care
and I wasn't enough.

Daily routine was your happiness
and me pretending I was happy.
Never did I think my love for you
Would **** me in the end.

But I died. I didn't care
Lost in an unfamiliar world.
Left alone figuring my way through.
So many drunk nights. So many mistakes.

Morals down the drain.
Cold tile floors my comfort at night
But warmer than your words.

One week passed. Then two.
Born again in
Whiskey and Joints.

Week three was better
Week four was a realization.
Thank you!
For your breakup-text
Thank you for letting me go.

I would have stayed,
Even though I was unhappy.
I would have done anything
To put you first.
Unlike you did for me.

Thank you for choosing yourself
and letting me discover what happiness is.
Week five has proven progress.
I'm first.

You wanted more for yourself
Than I was willing to give
and I show you now
that I always cared
But now I never will again.

I hate when you leave the light on.
I turn it off for a reason,
and you have the audacity to turn it on again.
It is too late for you to turn on the light.
It is too late for me to be awake.
I do not want it on. I don't need it on
It is a waste of energy,
trying to turn it on
after I turn it off.
You and I both know, I'm going to keep trying,
to keep it off.
So save yourself the money and time,
Save your energy for someone who wants it.
I'll use the rest of my energy to keep it off.

I cannot sleep with the **** light on!
Every time I hear the switch click, my opens open,
and the light penetrates the darkness I am trying to sleep in.
You are not in control of the light, you cannot decide
that you want it on, every time I want it off.
Stop ******* wasting everyone's time with this
back and forth. Money is being wasted, because
you can't learn that everyone does want the light on.

Please stop wasting your energy on me and my light.
Stop telling me I have an issue, where there is none.
This light is mine, the witch is mine, I am choosing
not to shine. Don't make the choice for me.
I hate when you turn on the light, I hate it so much
I hate gasping for air and telling you to go **** yourself.

Because of you, all I hear is that ******* clicking!
I hear in the morning and in the night,
I hear it when I cross the street. I cannot escape it.
It is forever ringing in my ears. But,
do you want to know what I love?
I love when you leave the light on.

Coffee –morning,
afternoon, and nighttime shots –
keeps me breathing,
and saves me from harmful thoughts.

I grew up with parents
addicted to the taste,
and a sister, who brought it home as a present
as if it held everything together like paste.

I heard through blue bedroom plaster
the cries of teenage rebellion,
and the yells of parents in disaster
from the back-talk of the hellion.

Coffee stopped coming home every night.
She brought it to a different family.
How I wished our home would reunite,
but we never regained our sanity.

Now I am intoxicated every day
with the milk-and-sugar infused
mixture. It turns the dull gray
of my eyes to look brown and enthused.

Each sip is rich in bitterness
and poor in flavor.
Yet it infects me like an illness
and saves me from the razor.

Sip some coffee
smile, don’t cry.  
Sip some coffee
the blood will dry.

I do not write.
I express. I feel.
I make connections and describe scenes.
I can make you see a sound;
Hear a color.
I do not write.

Writing is for those who wish to please
But I do not plan to please
I plan to write what i want
I am the picture for selfishness.
Don't ask me to write a specific thing
I don't work like that.

Writing is not work,
Expressing is not hard.
I do not write for you
I write for me
so if you don't like my piece
well I don't give a ****.

Because in this world of mine
Everything is my way
So get on another train
Find a puppet for your demands
And leave me to my expressions
I do not write.