I'm fine
When I am
I'm fine
When I am not
I'm fine
Whenever I am asked.

I am tormented
On the brink of madness
If I go through
Yet another sleepless night
Whenever I am asked,
I'm fine.

We talk more
Smile and joke
They are
The wrong words.

I am worried
Ashamed of breaking
I am crying for help
I will say
I'm fine
Instead.

I'm fine
When I am
I'm fine
When I am not
I'm fine
When I am everything but.

The biggest lie
The truth behind
Listen,
I am not.

Like the ring of a bell in the distance
some trance which in an instance
can seem like it lasts an eternity,
I embrace the natural wild just as much as I can,
I know it's not a normal thing
but life is short and I am happiest free.
Lost in the moonlight halo or entrenched
in active chaotic madness, it's all the
same to me. A vagabond, a fool,
I earned this by word of mouth alone,
never again truly kissed, scarred and yet my poor
living is sacred, there is no place I can call my own,
this all I am thinking as I drift off to sleep
for the very last time, as you hold my shaky hand,*
there is little I'd have left for my journey while
they take all they can that is left
of my world all for the sake of greed,
of nothing but selfish sentimentality,
I am already guilty, instantly proven guilty,
so for once let me be.

The moon is sitting
hauntingly beautiful
on her window
lovely wisps of pink scattered sky
glancing at her behind the trees
she imagines your hands
on her night skin
and she wants to write poetry
on your palm
she wants to write anything
about the oceans and the stars
and she wants it all
to mean something.

And tonight
she misses you so bad.

be careful with who you put your heart on your sleeve for;
they might accidentally crush it when reaching for your hand.


l . c

and it isn’t so odd that
we become each other’s
caretakers, as like
children, we reach for love,
as if we’ve never endured
a long winter’s night alone,
hope the last matchstick
lit in our hand.

two thousand nine hundred and forty six microscopic tiny shards of glass stuck in my hand is the only equivalent feeling to hearing your name

six months later and i keep finding hidden pieces in my palms

/ just when i thought my hands were numb i saw the silky red dress i wore the day my hand hit the glass and all i want to do is throw up

My heart is my weakness
Care  and love  tug on my heart strings
I just  want  keep hope
I wish i could find words to say
Let inner self come out
My heart needs the warmth
I walk on this hot stones for you
Give me your hand
I can be doc  to put back  your heart
let  me  be sun   that shines  during the rain.

They forget pain, forget sorrow,
Then live in the dark, pluck hairs,
For that perfect look of tomorrow,
They sick their dog on the poor, the immigrant,
The downtrodden, the scapegoated. They give no
Honest time to what the less fortunate have in store,
They continue to work themselves for many an hour,
Pick up where they left off happy and content,
That all who oppose them will lose any help
In bringing them down from their cloud of power,
Then they take whatever they were after, laugh,
Chop off any hand or cut off that which "offends,"
That stands in the way and slows them down,
They will get what they are after and be the
Most "handy helpers" helping themselves around.