~You were the first one to ever peak my curiosity. You had mood swings like day and night, you pulled at the threads in my flesh trying to search for what you could find underneath. We never got close enough that I could call you my girlfriend but I could feel what it was like. You were always talking about this boy, I had my first taste of jealousy because he would never love you like I could. I got tired of the cycle. Waiting for my turn. So I took from you what I could get and left you wishing you had loved what you had.

~You were so beautiful the way you had the ability to spot me in a crowded room. No matter the temperature your skin was always cold. You were always so cold. You spoke of how the stars here could never compare to the ones in Ohio. I didn't hesitate when you asked to be mine or when you asked if you could explore my every curve. You told me if I reached a certain weight you'd leave me so my fingers got to know the back of my throat in a disgustingly familiar way. I cried for three nights after you left, I was pathetically in lust with you. Months later you came to appreciate the way my hips rocked against yours and begged for my return. You are trash.

~You kissed me at the bottom of the stairs briefly. I could tell you didn't kiss often but I said yes anyway.  I remember being startled when I woke up at a friends house, my hair a filthy mess and you were sitting there watching me. I could barely have a conversation with you so I always kissed you to cover the involuntary silence. You were the nicest boy I'd ever met but I never loved you.

~We we're practically married the way we fought and ****** for three years. I gave you everything I had in summer on a blanket spread over the lush grass. I wrote novels in your pretty little heart and poured out my every struggle. I loved you from the hairs that stood on the back of my neck to the way I curled my toes..but then you changed. You said you were growing up and learning responsibility. But really you sat blankly in your room counting birds of death and you watched me struggle for breath, for life. I tried to get my love back but you'd buried him deep somewhere. I imagine he's laying beautifully in a bed of flowers and butterflies land on his lips trying to give him breath, although they are to minuscule to succeed. You've become a disgusting person. I do not love you.

~During a time that I sat waiting for death I found myself in August during September. You were the most beautiful boy I'd ever laid eyes on, I never imagined lips like yours touching mine. I've come to realize that you are the flowers, you are the butterflies and the sunshine. You are all of the bright magnificent things that you think you're not and you are mine. I fell for you involuntarily, but I would never turn back if I could. I've never had a best friend and a lover amalgamated.  I've never been so certain that love can exist in the darkest of beings. I've never tasted forever in someones kiss. Dear present love do not deceive me.

very short reach very high climb
very all yours very not mine
very not wood very much pine
very too rust very dull shine
very not real
very fun time very time
very time
consuming
very narrow
as it is buried
very deep
inside your lips
and it tips and turns and crashes and
leave it on the table where it’s easy to find
you wouldn’t ever want to leave it behind
please
praise
the
feet
that
move
you
play the song that we know the words to
play the song that we know
we know
the song that plays us
we know.

over you
there are
tears, insults,
jokes and
other dumb ****
that made you
the person you are
today,
the people who
buried you
alive are in hell,
and you are dancing
with the angels
in heaven,
because you
survived
through their
insults and jokes,
the ones which
made you stronger
than ever.

She knelt by the dark grey  marble headstone
once again on the anniversary
of the day she had happily buried her husband
six feet down in the ground
eight years since she had caused his demise
for a man she did despise!

As the widow gloated behind a false facade
the same figure watched
behind her the deceased husband stood
turning could not see him
thinking once again how good and thrilling
never a suspected killing!

No idea her good life would come to an end
as supernatural forces gathered
this time he followed her back to a plush car
the long dead husband was back
what had changed to allow him the power
to be back at this hour!

Angry sat next to the wife who murdered him
driven back to his own home
familiar items brought back good memories
from when he lived here
now a ghost haunting the house he loved
before down the stairs shoved!

Whether there is a heaven or a place called hell
he had prayed so very hard
from a dark pitiless limbo it changed to hope
now with a new man argued
started by the woman who had meant so much
now he would loath to touch!

****** to the floor berating of him was bored
scrambling to her feet ran
up those familiar stairs shouting more abuse
pursued by this enraged man
like a replay saw her violent death as she fell
her neck broken he could tell!

Instantly was at peace free no longer in turmoil
a tunnel so bright he could see
looking down at her lifeless body he passed on
but a faceless evil took her soul
engulfing it for that overdue journey to hell
righteousness had created this spell!

Jutsice it seems had at last been done!

The Foureyed Poet.

She took my hand,
that lonely little child.
Her eyes asked me a question
for which I had no answer.
I could count her young fingers
without looking for
she gripped so tight.
What could I possibly say?

The taller she got,
the more frequently
she let go and
disregarded me.
I can't blame her
for those latent
hateful tendencies.
Still, she would come back,
and every time her hand
was just a little bigger,
just a little stronger.

It was inevitable and utterly
unavoidable,
but it still surprised me.
The sky fell apart
and showered her with
woeful cries and broken dreams.
The tragic beauty of
shattering reality
took my breath away.
She let go of me,
but this time,
she shoved me hard
into the black shadows
of her nightmares,
a permanent enemy
of her innocent undertakings.

I watched her from the
corners of her subconscious,
waiting for her to look at me.
She ran like the devil
was hot on her heels,
but she was never afraid.
She burned like fire,
a bright star scorching
the night and she was
beautiful.

The longer she burned,
the more I feared
she would sputter and
die.
I waited for her,
ready to share my tears
with only her.

Then she fell,
and she is still there,
there before me.

She is an unconscious huddle,
a pile of glowing flesh and bone.
I notice how she is more
like a woman
than any other woman
I've ever seen.

The ashes begin to fall,
gray snowflakes
drifting over her,
the drab attempt
to bring her back to earth.
And she has fallen --
quite literally --
for the dusty act.
She does not say anything.
I weep as the inevitable engulfs her,
that once child,
still lonely.

I wait for the darkness.
Soon, there will be
no light peeking through
her soft confinement.

But it's only getting
brighter.

I look carefully,
and I am overwhelmed --
overjoyed--
as she burns like stars
buried in the ash
of the universe's shortcomings.