love

is a disease that continues to

be passed around and around

& leaves behind a long trail

of broken hearts,

the death of young souls,

& the smell of a

sickening sadness.

my father was a curator
and my mother sold guns
under their roof we made
art and war.

with your sparkling eyes
like crystal ****
and tranquilizing words
smoother than
****** gliding in innocent
veins,
you should stay away
from dark alleys and
promiscuous street corners.

above all else,
avoid her greedy fingers-
She's a user.

The stage has always been my home.
The great curtains acting as a dome.
Memorizing lines, my get away.
Until you came and thought you would stay.
It was alright for a while,
You were everything except vile.
Soon you became by hope.
Turning my world into your  kaleidoscope.
You swept me off my feet.
I learned the kinetic theory of heat.
That was just what you were doing.
My heart you were pursuing.
The curtains acted as a dome.
Then I made you my home.

*K.M.W.

Her kind of lonely wasn't the kind you just feel
It was the kind of lonely she went searching to resolve

It wasn't out of the ordinary to find her roaming around
looking for traces of him in the dust on the china cabinet
or in inanimate objects around the house

it wouldn't be peculiar to hear the lull of his favorite love songs playing through the thin walls of her one room apartment.
or to see her wipe away a tear as she opened the door
and invited you inside

It wasn't a rare sight to see her folding up the clothes he had left behind
Or typing paragraphs upon paragraphs of things she wished she would've said
Unfolding his clothes
bunching them up
throwing them in the corner

I can still see her hiding that stuffed animal he won for her at the fair
stuffing it in her closet
burying it under a pile of clothes and her own broken promises
entombing it deep enough to forget

Similarly, I still see her hiding the guilt she had found
I see her shoving it under her pillow
burying it under stardust and her own nightmares
keeping it close enough to remember

It wouldn't be bizarre if you caught her refolding his clothes
just 'one more time'
Putting them back in their drawers
Texting him
deleting the text before it sent
debating throwing out his old toothbrush

I remember quite clearly a time when she drank twenty bottles of water
all in succession
just to feel full again
I remember her holding her breath
until she'd turn blue
claiming she missed the way he took her breath away

Her kind of lonely wasn't the kind you just feel
it was the kind of lonely that drove her to insanity.