**** ruined you.
It ruined us.

I thought it was me.
My fault.
I needed to change.

I did my hair, my make up.
I danced for you.
I dressed in lingerie and costumes but it was never enough.
I couldn't live up to lust.

Then I learned it wasn't me.
I was your love for *******.

Slowly this diminished my love, my respect for you.
Worst of all it destroyed me, and all my self confidence I had in my self.

I convinced myself,
*** isn't everything but everything else had seemed right.
Maybe we can learn together connecting emotion with action.

Conclusion ended up being your lack of desire for *** and intimacy with me. Could it be my fault?

**** was always just one click away from any fantasy.
I would confront you and express my concerns.
Trying to make the two of us work.

You only got better at hiding it.
*** became a struggle.
Neither of us could reach that ******.
All you could do was blame me.
Then I knew....
You had the case of the prisoners' hand.

Could I wear more makeup?
What about white tipped nails?
Maybe I needed breast implants.

Now you want role play and ***** talks?
If that wasn't enough could I consider *******?

I tried to wrap all this around my head.
Thinking maybe these things would work.
We could become a couple again.

You could never find satisfaction.
So there could be no compromise.
Soon I lost my interest in ***.

It never seemed to bother with you.
I grew angry towards you.
Things began to come violent.

You pushed me twisting my arms and wrist.
Then threw me on the hardwood floor.
As my wrist began to bruise and swell.

How I missed being loved and cared for.
How I desired beautiful and emotional just plain naked ***.

All I feel....is lying here depressed.

I'd rather stay in bed then walk into you.
Every time I see you I take a deep breath, Turn around, and walk straight to bed and begin to cry again.

I ask myself...
Why did I stay this long?
Why did I try so hard to fix something that was never there?

For 6 years.
I believed you loved me.
When in reality you were in love with ****.

You continue to tell me
this ******* phrase I've come to hate...
"we're not there yet"...

What the **** does that supposed to mean??
Not there ... where??
Where should we be in the relationship
to allow certain things to happen??
Where should we be in the relationship
that we will allow our happiness continue to grow...
where should we be... if "we're not there yet..."

We're not there yet to say I love you,
we're not there yet for me to hear out loud your feelings,
apparently we're not there yet
for me to even call you mine...

What is it going to take for us to get "there"??...How much time will I have to wait for us to get "there??
Where the **** is "there"?

statistically,
I will die of a very old age, enveloped in the warm covers, my now oblivious tomb, with my hands grasping for a year my mind ran to in its final moments,
that year would be yours,
I named it after you because you seemed to stain every sunday morning with your tears caused by our laughter, the evenings ring silver bells of your warm embrace,
I named it after you because each Monday, as I rose out of that same comforting coffin, and fell into your arms like the wings of an owl carrying me to a higher limb, singing me songs like a mocking bird to make strange voices sound relatively close,
I named it after you because Tuesday's were the days you held my heart to a microphone, you let the world hear me fall deeper and deeper in love with you,
I named it after you because every Wednesday you brought me postcards from the places you visited in my mind, the places I long since forgot in my travels, the places where you planted daisies at every truck stop
I named it after you because Thursday's couldn't be anyone else, not with the karaoke nights and discos, you barged into each door with every intention of making me dance and sing until I felt beautiful,
I named it after you because Friday's were the only days in the week where you let me take you somewhere, where I held your face between my hands and gazed into your eyes, searching for the routes to take to get closer to you
I named it after you, because every Saturday, we walked to a garden, or down a city street, or through art museums, or down river streams, just moving, moving further from the places we've been, our pinkies intertwined, stumbling on each other's feet drunk from the ecstasy of our lovers deep embrace,
I named it after you, because every day you littered these moments with memories I swore I would never forget,
so when the new year bells rang,
and you were miles away,
and I was thinking you were a drop of perfect in such an imperfect place,
and all I wanted was just one taste,
you were taking buses to get to a new mind to conquer

I should have listened to you say, "I shouldn't start the new year with you, if I can't be there by your side to finish it"

He left a part of his
heart under my  
skin.

Stitched it up with a
silver coloured
thread.

Told me words of love
while the needle went
out and in.

Placed a kiss on my
rosy cheek and told
that he'll put my pain
to an end.

He wove love onto
my skin.

While his fingertips
were begging to
undress the champaign
lace I was wearing.

And the scar he left
was exactly like the
signature he leaves
on all the letters he
writes for me* ~

all start with part time friend who starts being full time love,
who lives under books and poetry,
i dont see other but only you.
your kisses on the brain is a thing that makes me special,
your kisses are so soft and my body's swinging from
Side to side,
bc i dont see other but only you.
the place of our 1st kiss is magical so magical that i cant explain,
is like fairytails out of books is a city where castle are real,
and you live there and i dont see other but only you.
i want find you and your magical place,
and the trees will whisper my name,
just bc you're smart dont make you geek, right?
bc i dont see other but only you
smart,
kind,
but you...
you're always trying being funny and makes my messy world feel awesome,
i'm so in love for your the way you see the problems on my head,
bc i dont see other but only you.
me being crazy and you  being calm...
can we have a hosue with thousand of books ?
bc i only see you...
-d.a

The seasons changing and so are you.
You'll go and hide in the shadowy corners of your bedroom,
Your emotions have come to a complete dull.
For you are not you anymore.
You've disappeared from sight.
Days are long, tiresome, sullen and filled with hours that could be spent together.
But you've gone away somewhere,
And no one can find out where.
Come home to me.

Violence--
that is the term we like to throw around
when two people are brawling out in the street
Violence--
is a domestic dispute between two ill crossed lovers
who no longer can see eye to eye
unless their eyes are swollen shut.

Violence is not a fleeing person
who has to run from their protectors.
When protection means ****
it's hard to find the difference
between police officer
and criminal.

We're not shouting for them to stop speeding bullets
or to be our guardian who shields us from all
our pleas are for a chance
to live freely and safely in the world.

For them to understand that bullets do not prevent problems
and hiding the truth under a tower of corpses
will never keep their blood from seeping into the ground.
The ground where  too many people lie
from their protectors protecting too much.