Darkness is when the earth seems to be in completely still.
And the only thing alive seems to be you
Darkness is the moon when it overlaps the sun and for the few seconds it is complete and utter darkness.

Ivy has style
Ivy puts on dresses and heels
Ivy reads books
Ivy talks about books
Ivy lies to her father
Ivy eats at expensive restaurants and pays with her mother’s card
Ivy is beautiful and wild
Ivy is strange and vicious
Ivy drinks more than she should
Ivy eats less than necessary
Ivy has a bottle of ***** and a coke in her car
Ivy has a parking ticket on the windshield
Ivy busily rolls a joint and goes outside
Ivy sits on a cold curb and smokes elegantly
What else can I say about Ivy?
Ivy has a beautiful, slim handwriting
Once Ivy kissed as if she was eating soup
Ivy is poisonous or so she thinks
Ivy is impressed by "stupid" crazy stories, such as "Naked Lunch"
Sometimes Ivy dances to Britney Spears
Ivy likes "Love" by Gaspar Noé
Ivy likes to re-enact classical paintings: Venus, Ophelia,…
Ivy buys matching underwear from Agent Provocateur
Kisses make Ivy’s back, neck, and face blush
Not a solid fill-in red, but marble blotches
Ivy has piercings on her ******* and down there
Ivy has scars from a razor blade: a triangle on her chest and "Anathema" on her hip
Ivy has a streak of tragedy in her
I like Ivy

He tells me that cliche again about van gogh and his yellow paint. He says i’m an artist like that. i’ll find my yellow paint. my salvation. how i scoop out hope.
i want to tell him i already have. the ugly things i shove inside myself trying to find happiness even if it kills me. my yellow paint has been entire cakes, has been sixteen shots, has been strangers i kissed and forgot, has been eating too healthy, has been eating nothing at all, has been dark nights i swaddled myself in, has been speeding on black ice, has been everything i could think of that would make me feel anything at all for once in my life. i wonder if i die like this they’ll say it was beautiful. they’ll talk about the poet who used the sharpest things in her life to carve the joy out of herself - they’ll say, oh, she knew it was toxic but she wanted to put the happiness inside of her again. she ate only captain crunch because it reminded her of her childhood, isn’t that so cute? well obviously it’s sad she’s dead but how romantic is it that she loved birds and flowers and once debated eating poison. how will they paint my ending. she unbuckled herself on highways because she wanted to be one with the sky. she refused to look before crossing the road because she believed in fate. she was a wonderful girl and will be missed while we wear socks with her face on them. van gogh ate yellow paint. we say he was trying to put the good back into him. but i’ve slammed myself against the ground trying to get death to stick. i know what self harm is when i see it.

The Poem For Every Female.


I Love You.


I love all females.
No female is ugly.
No female should ever feel lonely.
I am with you all; you are all in my heart.
This poem is my gift to you all, you shining stars.


I love you all.  You bring us love and empathy.
So to you all; I dedicate my everything.
I share my kindness with you all,
For you all are truly beautiful.


You may not know how to show your love; just like me.
So take this from me with love, all females – my empathy.
You are all simply magnificent, a Queen of the Benign…
I kneel before you all, to simply tell you… You shine!


What do females want?...


Attention…Devotion…Compassion…Understanding…
Love…Danc­ing…A little Romancing…
A Friend…A Good Listener…Cuddles… Kisses…
Occasional spontaneity…More than 3 wishes…


Loving…Singing…Some Showing of Emotion…
Passion…Satisfaction…Laughing…Emancipation…
This…That…Wh­atever the Hell I want!...
Relaxation…No need for straighteners…More Make-Up…


You, Him, or Her…A Care Bear…
More, more, I want it all!...I want to see you care…
I want the Flowers…I want the Choc’s and Wine…
Come Here…Go Away!...It’s Time…To be a Bride…


A Kid…A Ring…A Telephone Number…Something…
A Prince…A King…A Lesbian?


To be treated as they all are…
Beautiful and Unique.


Anything I did not add to the list…
Tell the one that you love…
And we shall hope that they have been listening.


(C)2011 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.

She wakes up each morning
Looks in the mirror
…
She puts an oversized hoodie over

Straightens her hair
Like every other girl in her school
Oh no
She burns her finger

Covers her imperfections
With powders
That suffocate her skin

Coats her eyelashes
With sticky black goop
That crusts when it dries

Her mother calls her down for breakfast
“I’m not hungry”
She says
She hasn’t been hungry for two weeks

You know what they say
Beauty is pain

She goes to school
Why is everyone else so skinny?
And beautiful?
And perfect?
She wishes she were them

But what she doesn’t know
Is that
Those skinny, beautiful, perfect girls
Wishes they were her

What a tricky topic to write of
How does one encompass all that this is?

I could use numbers to speak of my love for you
With numbers that extend above the sky
and past our imagination
Intricate and never-ending digits and decimals
To show the amount of which
I love you
But even then
Infinity would never match
To the quantity in which I adore you
Because there is no quantity

Maybe I could use actions to show I love you?
Sing to you and hold your hand
Kiss your lips and hug you dearly
But then…
There are mute people
Whose love shows no bound
And the paralyzed
Who still love like there's no tomorrow
So then, actions can't express my love for you
Because actions are too simple
No matter how big they are

Perhaps I could compose letters and sonnets
Speak and have my words flow like wax
Type thousands upon thousands of words
Each meaning one thing
I love you
But I can't put how I feel about you
Into words that do them justice
No number of pixels on a screen or words on a paper
Even compares to the feelings
The complex and conditional emotion
I have for you

So, I say my dear,
My love for you is
More than a number any man could conceive
My love for you is
Greater than any action anyone could or couldn't do
My love for you means more
Than the books on the subject that have been written or will be
Because my love for you is
Bountiful
Unmeasurable
And so vast in its own way

I end this with three words
And I hope you think of them fondly
Yes, my one and only
I love you