How do we clash
so harsh
and yet sparse
but it lasts
anger blush
as we laugh

you should not push an opinion
nor force it into a small mind
it may explode at the ears
and lose the hearing the next time
when opportunity may arise
where those words may be recieved
into small parts, in smaller bits
and pushed in with ease

My favorite meal (apparently)
Is eating crow
****** every day
Devoured like ice cream
On a hot day
I'm a hot mess
Words equate land mines
Going off without warning
Disguised as words
Play me a fool
I thought I was helpful
But alas
Set the gasoline on fire
Let it light the way
Use me as a bridge
And light me aflame
And they say
You should talk more
What do I get from that
Besides explosions
And feathers in my teeth
But with lips sewn shut
I won't be eating anything
So crow is better than nothing
Only because starvation
Takes 45 days
I lack the patience

Fabulist am I
Then you're the fable
A lie that I devised to keep us stable
When wild lust finally died there wasn't much left
We felt, peaked, then denied, bereft of clarity
How much was hope
How much charity
Who knows, but this much is clear
If there's an untruth here
We are

words were always being launched
across the rooms of my house.
insults and accusations were flung
from one room to the next.

it wasn’t long before those words
were replaced by objects.

whenever I came home,
ceramic plates and decorative vases
would already be splayed out across
our kitchen floor, wrecked and broken.

I learned quickly
how to tiptoe around the mess.
if I wasn’t careful, the soles
of my feet would drip blood.

I accidentally learned pointe
by avoiding broken glass.

until someone pointed it out,
I never realized I was dancing.

my movements were somehow
considered to be a performance,

but all they were ever meant to be
was an avoidance of pain.

Made to fight against each other,
In this battle for us to suffer.
Shedding blood sweat and tears,
For someone with a bitter taste.
Sacrificing everything I have,
Turning all of it to ash.
There you'll sit in your little throne,
With your little puppets to play.
All the dead bodies waltzing in your ball,
Those that have given their all.
Even if my life was surrendered,
You're still so self centred.
Never will you look at me,
Never will you care about me,
Even if I've given all of me.