ask your blood
your limbs, your breathing feet
what Poetry is -
a phylogenetic anomaly
in light’s discontinuity

or just…
the strange yearning of hematopoiesis

ask the silence in your lungs
the bursting DNA, reinterpreted
how it allures memory inside your bones
how it treads conventions of sleep
with the weight of a sigh

if you ask me
what Poetry is
I’d say: breath calligraphy
a winged dream of depth
on enchanted retina
the bitter-sweet art of airy harmony

ask your hands
what Poetry is
perhaps they’ll take a moment
to bloom

I guess you could call it poetic how by the age of 12 I had no recollection of what happiness tasted like on my tongue. Some would say it was tragically beautiful.
But it was not poetic, nor was it beautiful,  but it was tragic. It was so very, very sad, and that sadness is only doubled now that people see sorrow as glorious.  It is not glorious. It is not strength. It is a lump of iron in your chest and stomach and it eats you from the inside, out and you have no right to think that blood stained wrists are anything other than tragic. So very,  very tragic.

sometimes the navy hue
of 3 a.m. and the patter of
raindrops sinking  into
cracked concrete is enough
to console me into sleep. sometimes

it pains the bruises on
my heart slightly too
much that it aches to shut
my eyes; you always loved
the scent after rain, and i always
loved you.

There is a line I cross across myself and beside myself I lay broken
With every sigh there is goodbye and I reside by words I've never spoken
I need help
Staying strong has never felt so wrong. Staying strong has never felt so wrong.
           Staying strong has never felt so wrong.
Staying strong has never felt so ******* wrong.
                                                                ­Staying strong has never felt so

**** me.
******* **** me.
Give me your lips and thrill me.
Perk up your shoulders as I lay there and smolder
thrill me.

Whoops, there I said it and if I feel it then I must really mean it
and if I mean it, then I must really want it
and if I want it then I'll eat fire.
And duh-duh-duh he's going to eat fire, ladies and gentleman.
Boys and girls,
there are seven wonders of the world
and you'll never see them, let alone be them.

You ******* *******
I trusted you
I was just a child

"I'm scared."

You touched me in ways that you thought would bring satisfaction
but all you created was destruction

"You do it or you go to hell. It's in the bible."

Just because you corrupted my body
doesn't mean that you corrupted my being.
And you will never know who I am
just because of my body.
I have heaven inside of me
and oceans so deep in my heart
that I can drown others with my love.

I am not what the TV says I am
I am not what a textbook says I am
I am not my grades
I am not the flames that have burnt me

I am love
I am hope
I am the fingers brushing her face
I am courage
I am ambition
I am fighting to fix everything
while you lay dead and broken under dirt that is above you.
Above you.
Above you.
Above you. Above you. Above you. Above you. Above you.

This is the one time I will not be weak.

If I can overcome this then I can overcome anything at all
and if I can't
then forever I'll fall.

I've been reading what you share
and I can't stop the dark exhilaration
of seeing your latest work in my list.

Truth is,
even at the risk
of becoming the source of your
most venomous rant...

or

being the subject of your
most intense and  prosaic hatred...

or

being eloquently described
as the most vile piece of
male filth in 10 words
or less...

I still wanna get naked
and f...k your brains out!

Cuz deep down,
I'm a sucker
for clever verses.