someone told me i fall for kind people because i can't stop letting everyone walk all over me, and at least the kind ones will try not to leave bruises. and i laughed like it was a joke and i was the punchline, but i found another bruise in the mirror last night.

i fell for another kind person, but the problem is that kind people lie. and i never know how to distinguish the black and white from the grey. i'll never know if you like me because you treat everyone like stardust and glass.

but i actually am stardust and glass. i am precious and fragile and everywhere and i need to be held. i want it to be by you. but people that weren't as kind already broke me and now if you touch me the way i want you to you'll cut yourself. and blood doesn't wash out of a doormat.

so i don't initiate conversation. i hope you can't see my broken heart on my sleeve because it has your initials written on it in ink. i haven't decided how close i'll let you look. but maybe one day i'll let you walk all over me and hope that i feel like home.

This, this song I made you, let it pierce your heart,
like the silver moon earrings, the ones I gave you,close your eyes,

Let me hold you on high.
Let me hold you on high.

Like the Kansas fields that outnumber the stars,
let's walk on the wheat fields of gold, for even
if I can't forgive you, my heart will freely love you.

Over and over, over and over,

like red Georgia Peaches,  like Florida Beaches,
wave after wave, I’ll show you a new song,
So we can be one again,  let it all sweep you away.  
For the diamonds at dusk, are waiting for us.

For like the Chicago sunrise, let the power of it's sunrise,
sing you back to life, until you are alive and washed by dreams.

Embrace me, hold on, like a California dream, pretend it's just me,
like the ring on your finger, let this be,
let this be, a time between you and me.

For if you harden your heart, lets go back to one,
let me be like your silver moon earrings,

let me hold you on high.
let me hold you on high.

Diamond shaped hearts
cracking into two
forming elegant earings
for you to wear
once the reaper comes
and invites you down.
Just like beauty hurts,
so does love.

Like flies in tackle box,
Hardware bolted to their lobes,
The ladies earrings.

A country lane, which eats animals, earrings and experiences,
winds in spools around the oat-house and follows the broken wall.

My sister’s bottle green jeep made waves along the hedges,
she shook out her hairband and the conversations of the evening.

An owl asks on all sides, and would seem to answer himself as
the field barracuda, the vast wide eye for the minnow-mouse.

She put a pearl in the bushes, dangling spit-like,
an orb, a moon-berry, full and dead forever.
She drove faster, as the english night slowed down,
down by the where the willow covers the road sign.
She killed a badger,
as if they had both lost something here.

Sun-cooked,
crisp at the curling edges
he’s a dark patch, like a fixed pothole.
his bones tested her michelins in the morning
again, glassy eyed, stillened,
retroflective and blind to the shimmering shadow of flies
rising up through his skin like a spirit.

But both her ears are full.

Not through your ******, your ear, or your nose,—
Your sphincter's the place where your sphincter ring goes!

O.O

The ear is an amazing tool. Subtle invitation,
subtle beauty, and the jewelry that decorates it!

I saw your ears before the gauges, and even then
they were small, delicate, and open to me.

If I could be any object, knowing what little purpose
I would serve, I would be the decorations, hanging,

from your earlobe: I would be satisfied being worn
on your body, your bright body, your beautiful face

sparkling from the lights you liked to daydream in,
placed near the delicate halls you’d always embraced me in.