Please Diane,
feel warmth of my hands,
as the water is flowing,
I wish I was your fountain,
I have but **** left to gain,
a shadow disappears in rain.

A flow circulates brain,
but the blood drips down the drain
I wish I could raise like a crane
but I copped the...........

Flowing bubbling spring
A good time to lose the ring
Lying in bed to tomorrow brings
I hate when the birds start to sing.

What is there......

Haste becomes routine tooth paste,
if the body can lift from such waste,
I'm sick of who I am am today,
will a future tomorrow be the same.

Please Diane,
He sped off in the van,
and the stoning's I had to witness
there is no priest who can truly blessed.

I'm so sick and tired.....
I just want to die.

the bus is coming
and it’s raining outside.
i’m cold,
and my shaking fingers are
shooting missiles toward you from
fifteen miles away.
texting is the worst form of communication.

the bus is coming
and it’s raining outside.
can’t you ever answer the
******* phone when i call you?
do you even love me? do you
care that i’m in pain?
do you care that i’m waiting here,
alone, cold,
while you have your car and
some other ***** snuggled up under your arm?

the bus is coming
and it’s raining outside.
what am i supposed to do,
leave you when you say you don’t care about me?
others have told me that i’m resilient
and i don’t want to make liars out of my friends.
i can take this. i can take this.
i’m not afraid of pain.
keep hurting me. tell me to **** myself
and i’ll kiss your calloused fingers
and worship you like nothing else.
i am on my knees
and the lentils you had me kneel on
are beginning to cut through my skin.
baby? do we still call each other,
baby?

the bus is coming
and it’s raining outside.
do you remember that morning
when you called me a fat ******* *****
because i spilled coffee all over the kitchen floor?
do you? because i do.
and i would crawl through the coffee and the
scattered glass like a dead man does through hell,
trying to get to something better
but knowing they never will.

the bus is coming
and it’s raining outside.
i am not crazy.
well, i am crazy.
but i’m not crazy here.
here, i need you to hear me.
don’t just say you do-
actually do it.
pull my heart out and look how it
pulsates with love.
every beat was made for you
and you just won’t look.
you won’t listen.

the bus is coming
and it’s raining outside.
i have put my hands
through blazing fire to
soothe your enormous ego
and you can’t pick me up
from the ******* bus stop.
****! what’s a girl got to do
to find a man that will
lick her wounds and devour
her fears? am i not worthy of love?
should i just **** myself?

the bus is coming
and it’s raining outside.
i’m a mistake. i am unlovable.
i am a ruined being left alone by God to
suffer in this hell we call life.
everything he says about me is right.
i’m difficult. i cry too much. i’m too depressed.
i’m crazy. i’m crazy. i’m crazy.

the bus is coming
and it’s raining outside.
what was i thinking?
i don’t need a man. i don’t need anyone!
i am more godly than anything up in the sky
or beneath the earth!
i am the vacuum of space
and i’ll suffocate those who think
i’m anything less than perfect.
why won’t he pick up
the ******* phone?

the bus is coming
and it’s raining outside.
i check my phone.
it’s 7:11pm.
the bus isn’t coming.
i don’t think it ever was.

my skin burns like dry ice
being branded by the history
-of every mistake I’ve ever made
“when does it end?”
“where does it stop?”
if it’s forever
hang it around me like a noose
put me out of my agony
-this suffocation is unbearable.

stiff as a board on a dock
skin burning like ice
tears flowing as heavy as rain
begging and pleading
how can there be a God
when I suffer in silence so loud
-it shakes the peace out of heaven

the feeling of disgust
covers my body like a sweltering sheet
I scrub my skin raw
until it bleeds profusely
I relive it in my nightmares
other times, flashbacks
-I can’t help but feel I deserve it

I feel so unworthy
it would have been easier
if he had just killed me
compared to having to live
-just to die every time I wake up

What would you do to pay for evil sins
I could have blamed them on an evil twin
Living within as an excuse for my actions
But we all congregate towards one faction

You can't make excuses for vile
corruption
But as a boy I was free to sail
But this world dropped fat salacious
I was only six when considered delicious.

I pick up
he screams, I don’t know what
he threatens, he spins thread
I plead. I say sorry, I don’t know why

“have you taken your medication?”
wrong question, wrong time

I receive a list of tasks to perform before sundown
1. remove these friends
2. admit to these things
3. give up my dreams
3. …give up me

swallowed by the waves, never to be seen
smiling when he chose me

Untitled (3 Parts)


Its breaking....
Under sea.
Underneath,
I lost all feeling,
Do fish not feel
the rod piercing?

Sometimes
I was too
Vulnerable
breakable
fragile
young
small
tiny,
me.

I'm getting tired
I'm too weary
to surface.

Resilience,
is not a word
but a death
sentence
of irony plates
I breathe in.

Hey,
do you wish
to see
the worse
in me,
the abyss
snaps
the frame,
Inner child...
its frozen eye...

I still feel,
morning train,
a rush through,
what couldn't
who wouldn't
save me.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

rocking the wooden horse,
as dark engulfs black hole,
its par for the course,
when shattered is considered whole.

Autumn leaves drying and fading,
beautiful in snow shy & melting,
Eyes darken and hair whiten,
wisdom wears on me sharpens...
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Dead and buried is the garden
I helped with my little *****,
echoes are days felt yesterday
blowing in the hallowed wind
are all the autumn leaves...

I feel nothing, and everything
An empty echo
Trapped, screaming but yawning.
I go unheard.

There is a spark,
a promise of reanimation
in endless pools of blue.

I can die and live
a thousand lifetimes
in an interlocked gaze…

But what happens
when the jolt
no longer
reanimates
the dead.