They watched me carefully,
fluttering in my cage, pointing at my hair.
"how fierce" said the old man with the crooked teeth.
I pressed my clawed hands against the solid bars,
widening my yellow eyes.
"no, not fierce." said the old woman with the cane.
Her leather face turned upwards, smiling,
the skin, stretching like it had not practiced that action,
in a very long time.
"how free."

I’m starting to believe that maybe love is an amalgamation of every other feeling but happiness. And that maybe happiness will always work like an anomaly. A sometimes, sporadic product of all those feelings blue and fierce.

The heavy rain falls swift and stark,
On these hills, the wheeling lark
And sodden sparrow sing in the dark,
As the sea falls from the sky.

The wind blows strong, the trees all hiss,
The arrows strike an icy kiss
The water drowns in anguished bliss,
As the sea falls from the sky.

I pity him with no place to hide,
But wet, in frozen arms abide
A spark against this fearsome tide
As the sea falls from the sky.

So today you started with the why's, making excuses and reasons as you have every season since I looked at you, but now I see you and you think you can use the glint from that shiny silver tongue to blind me so you can bind me in your arms until I can't breath. And while you seem pretty qualified at splitting hairs and splitting sheets that doesn't mean you'll be splitting legs, not unless you get down on your knees and join this Sunday service, my body is a temple and you will worship it.
     It is not a crime scene to be inspected, not a base to be infiltrated and not fire to be quenched. The masses have called out "Sister art thou there?" and I have replied rising from what remains of my childlike mind saying,"Yey, I am the mosque, come to me and fill me with your joy and celebrations, but only the worthy shall enter my sacred halls and learn my holy obsessions." So don't think you can break me in because I am not something to be broken, not something to be dominated or overtaken in one moment of reckless inspiration.
     I see you shaking. Whether it's in fear or lust or just from the itch of dust forming on your skin from sitting patiently and waiting for the day when I give in, but just like you, it won't come. So whether you are wide eyed or tired eyed you will behold the glory that is within me, the strength that defines me and realize that I am baptized in the dawn of a new day. And you should know that I will not be coerced and as far as I'm concerned if you haven't learned by now that I am not your outlet, not just something to help you come around when your feeling down, your living puppet, then you never will. So you will never fill the gap between my thighs with your lies and turn around and call it love.
     Preach all you want but this choir isn't listening, it will sing to drown out the deafening sound of your screeching, so after hours when my church is closed and your feeling empty and alone just remember that next communion I'll be waiting for your confessions, and then maybe you'll receive my blessings. But before then my doors are closed until you know the difference between impulse and infatuation.
     So until the day when you figure out what you need to do and say, focus on your words, and not the way my bees talk to your birds.

This woman
never looks
at the camera,
always into
the camera;
just as
this woman
looks directly
into my heart;
this woman
with her
sweet and fierce
Tiger eyes.
This woman
is something new
in an old world.
This woman.**
   ~mce

That laugh,
shakes like the demolition it's encasing.
Constantly used to hold back screams.
Used to reassure people shes fine.
A smile plastered on her face accompanied by
the laughter she practiced and mastered.
An artist of emotional controversy.
She is a mastermind of biting her tongue-
coming to terms that her silence is golden.
When you hear her, hold on tight to her words.
She will drill right into and past your heart
directly into your bones.
Her finely composed hostility will stay with you
forever.
That smile that could crack diamonds
never falters.

On the surface:
Porcelain skin,
lightly freckled face.
Long auburn hair.
Brown and green flecked eyes.
5'9, thick thighs, tight waist.
This is the girl you fell in love with.
The girl in front of you.
Just what you can see and feel and hold.
You did not fall in love with what is underlying.
Numb to most, angry with others.
Careful.. Never one to rush things.
A fan of perspectives.
An interest in different characteristics.
Curious about every little thing.
Inquisitive, kind.
A raging internalization of anger and frustration
and sadness.
Foundation ready to give out but she wont let it.
She patches up each new crack.
Lost her mind long ago
but never faltering her grip on reality.
It's tattooed on her.
She can't escape the harsh truths.
One being, people only see the surfaces.
Never digging even the slightest.
She's seen many lives lost before it was their time.
She's given up long ago.
Taught herself;
No one can be saved if they wont help themselves first.
Removed herself from
they who claw at the ankles
of people to be dragged down alongside them.
She holds her head up high when she feels herself sinking.
All alone, right beside you.
Always there when she's needed.
Never to have anyone hold her hand
or tell her she's strong.
She doesn't need to be told.
She knows that to survive what she has,
she must be anything but weak.
She will laugh in the face of the antagonist,
smile and ask how their day was, truly curious.
But you only see the surface.
She's just a pretty face.

Be like a rose
They see your beauty
They want to come close
So elegant and well formed
Just one touch..
Then theyre deformed
Your thorn so piercing
It had them fooled
Replenished their thirsting.