I am so incredibly dissatisfied.
With my family,
my lover,
my life,
and myself.

All things that used to sate the hunger,
to feel something,
have ceased to conjure any reaction.
My heart,  
once erupting with passion and purpose
now lays dormant at my feet.

So  I cater to these emotional addictions,
like a ****** looking for their next fix.

I need more.


Hurt me
          **** me
                    Use me
                         then
Make sure you leave me,
you'll be doing both of us a favor.

And I will put back all of the p i e c e s      
I always liked puzzles.
Cutting up something beautiful
for leisure.

Every time I stay up past 2am,
I start thinking about my life.
I always come to the same conclusion,
I need: an extensive vocabulary and more sleep.

I wake up
while the stars
are still faintly sprinkling
the dark colored blanket
that covers the sun
and quiets the people.

There is so much silence that
I can hear captivating harmonies
that are usually obliterated in daytime's
illumination and bustle.

Like how wind runs its fingers through
Mother Earth's hair.
Comfort.
How the river flow around the rocks,
kissing every inch of her bumpy spine.
Devotion.

At night, as I observe,
it always feels like I've walked into
an intimate setting
I was never meant to see.
Interrupting,
nature's gentle displays of affection.

I wasn't made nocturnal,
but nightfall evokes passion
in the quiet.
And twilight
is for those who listen.

She always looks up when she plays,
searching for something.
Her eyes are wide open,
she says she sees music in colors.
She says she hears god when her fingers
roam across keys of ivory,
but they speak in tongues of gold.
Here everyone she loves shimmers,
and he beckons her home.

When I was little,
I thought I'd hear god in the back of orchestras,
with shining trombones and thundering timpani.
Now I hear her
in the sobs of broken mothers,
and the rustle of the leaves.
Things that aren't tangible
but still matter most.