She was a collector
Of broken dreams
And misplaced things
She put them together
To make her heart compete

*No wonder why
She loved me so much
She told me
I was the final piece

How do I erase this Janwar
that's clawing, gnawing, destroying my insides
try to cease this current
this ebbing self-control
black-holed sanity of clear thought

Everywhere I go
every sight I see
incomplete without my completeness
you

Stupidity overwhelming judgement
blinding direction of constant withdrawal
an itch

How I wish things didn't happen for a reason
for now, I'd be whole
without a counterpart
missing

A puzzle piece
misleading me to believe
that he
and me
as a we
are meant to be

**** that idiocracy
for whole
I am,
complete,
and you are obsolete

*s.q.

You were a boy
Whose heart didn't beat,
Yet you made me feel
Complete.


F.Z.N

Complete,

And utter chaos.

Complete.

And utter, “Chaos.”

These cicadas,
their transformation is mine...
leaving behind
the exo-existence.
The inside is out.
The vibrant vibration...
the truth is in my mouth
and on my face...
The beginning
is fruition.
The world is Alive
                                       and so am I.
I feel everything.
I am everything.

Ever since I met you never once have I felt a void in my heart.

Another slimy page absorbed by gentle, tender hands
Another reality channel infected by impossibilities
Another grainy film shaded by green to hide the truth

All eyes are glued to these perfections
Simple utopias I can never be

Her hair, his eyes, their laugh, that smile

How disheartening it is
for my friends to say one word
when the tags on my clothing say another

A dent here, a scar there, a bulge elsewhere
hips too wide, skin too rough, hair too straight, eyes too red,
toes too small, nose too big, scar too dark, skin too light
My entire being is stitched together faults

So my eyes burn as yours shine
I guess it is yet another imperfection

But then again, are the blemishes even mine?