They usually told me to grow up,
to stop running in the streets,
stop giving out childish antics,
quit watching cartoons
and start acting responsible,
start being like a lady,
to open my eyes and take interest
in what adults or teens like to read.

Maybe I still don't want to let go of my childish self
cause it has been a long time since I've enjoyed myself.
I like fantasies that have a different twist, children who are out of the ordinary, stories that come from another land.
They never cease to excite me and make me think that this thing called reality is just a part of a dream, that my real world exists somewhere in another realm or in another portal where in even though you are already having a nightmare it still seems like a dream.
They might've long grown up but I don't think I will any time soon.

This kid inside me is wild and still wants me to imagine wide as if there ain't no boundaries.

*I believe that the only way out of reality is through a fantasy.

I don't want just anybody
To penetrate through;
No,I won't give room to one
Who is no knight.

For I was not born in luck,
Or raised in plenty.
I was born to be queen,
Not just mere princess for a dress

So take your sword,
Go beyond your birth right
And claim your place..

In my heart,
I will crown you king..
With my body,
I will exhalt you..
Yet still,
With my soul,
I will glorify you.

So with your helmet,
Protect me..
Even as you guard your home.
For it is my heart that houses you.
You, my Knight.

The innocent pig! Slaughtered in the blood stained room.
The man stands over the corpse and laughs.
Slowly
he peels the skin off the pig,
scolding the dead for pig her small imperfections.
For some game, that needs fresh skin.

The surface of her body and soul, in
a grey factory fit over a mold by a
person who has delt with tens of thousands
of innocent pigs and can only see the skin.  
A conveyor belt takes thousands of animals,
whose only fault was being too heavy, into a drying room.
The pigs not animals but objects now, slaughtered
for entertainment.

The “vegetarian” football player takes
the skin of the poor mama pig and chucks it to his friend.

The misguided soul! Taught tediously to truly think that
the typical time of the gentle piglet far better spent dead
than to live a hellish life, nor will this soul know the
pig is both dead and lived a hellish life.

A hole in the pigs skin and hollow air rushes free.
Punted away into the woods.
Again and again.

The game starts.
The chubby guys line up and smell each others breath,
both sides scream like monsters and charge at each other,
they don’t punch each other, so it’s civilized.
The skinny guys also line up next to each other,
trying to outrun the other guy, yeah
I say guy because society is sexist but moving on,
so they try to outrun each other, one guy in an attempt
to not allow the person to catch the thin layer of pig skin.
The guy running forward tries to get the quarterback (basically
the star of the team the guy with dreamy hair and a nice body
who is either a cool guy or a ****)
to toss him the hollowed out pig skin, so can run and look cool
until another “light” 180 pound guy tackles him to the ground.
The stands, all criminson red, go wild,
Fist bumping, jumping up and down, beer drowning the floor,
at the sight of the guy with the dreamy body
tossing the misshaped ball,
to the guy who just hand the wind
smashed
out of him.

Yes this is all football.

In this space I've become a superhero.
You guessed it - my head is this place.
Crossing poems off my list to zero.

My words you've adored.
Appreciated approved and applauded.
You've given me confidence now stored.

Dreamy you've made me sound.
Tell me I'm good with my words.
I've written with feeling abound.

I'm not a superhero you'll find.
If I could speak the way I write.
I think I'd annoy myself.

:)

Hearing plugged with fingers,
sounds
still spill
into a skull bowl
full of salt and water,
saline, what can one crave,
praline robed in dark chocolate,
the last light and frivolous thought had,

two
orbs glazed,
Signals phased,
body of
piece work,
mind over matters
most,
flashing, all the colour,
then comes the red,
then comes the green,
                                seen in observed beauty,
then comes the black,
then comes the white,
fading like the night,
to remember...

The first time of everything
Oh
and just remember the scents
and tastes
touch

my feet don't carry me to you
i get lifted by my soul all the way
leaving my breath to fight it's way to my lungs
and these eyes to die when tracing your cheeks
i die everyday when you're away
and have my after life when i see you
for you're an angel by definition
a pure charge for my recovery
opening me up to a flood sighs
with every way you treat my skin
that sails deep like you found my heart..
speaking a language i wasn't taught
but i found when we collided..
i found when you brought me back to life
..my angel

You never asked..

take that forever..

keep it and bear with it..

never regret..

never blame..

that's how well you play your game..

As I lay down in my cold bed
Weeping over the insecurities of life
on a winter night
You wrapped me in your protective arms
Brushed my hair and wiped off the tears
I could feel the warmth everywhere
Why are you so pleasing?
Only in my dreams.