Of poetry
and prose
his words
remind me
Every time
we talk
I bloom
like a rose

sad boy;
what a pathetic
ploy
this is for my attention.
all you contrive
tastelessly
always lacks concession.

every word,
and image you fake
I reject, from my
possession,
for all you are
's worth less than this
effortless expression.

you see, my natural
creativity
surmounts your ****
impression
of the beauty of my work
and my powerful
transgression.

-it's the ones that seem to love themselves the most,
that actually love themselves the least.

It's far less vulnerable
To show a pale scar

Than it is to expose
To another
Your bloodied self

l.v.s