Don't say you love me.
I have a hard time
accepting those words.
Like they are foreign and
do not translate into my
native tongue.

Don't look at me
with such kind eyes.
It burns my skin and
overheats me.
Like sun rays on
newly exposed flesh.

Don't hold me so tenderly.
My body can't handle
the pain of your gentleness.
It has been conditioned
to the harshness of humanity
And may break apart if
handled any other way.

Don't leave me.
I know I am difficult,
closed off and crazy.
Truly a complicated puzzle
to piece together.
But I promise I am
worth it.

Brooklyn
is LONGING for his warm presence
because this place is cold
without him—
the fallen SOLDIER
who was lost in a sight
of a snow angel
in a battle of FRIGHT CAR

faith
that we never loose
and a pinch
of a never ending hope
awaiting for his HOMECOMING
in a cold Brooklyn
that even with
the heat radiating from a FURNACE
the cold won't melt away

catching
a hold of the SOLDIER
in a mid-frozen way
and in count from ONE—
to NINE
he become a man of no BENIGN
tempted by control
triggered by words of fear
he comply himself as a SOLDIER
of cold blooded missions
and for that cause—
Soviet is harsh

darkness
on a DAYBREAK
was enough to fill harshness
inside parts of him
that are already RUSTED
as the result of
being more a machine
than a man himself

wishing
from the depth of his consciousness
that he could turn back time
to where he was SEVENTEEN
with a hold of a friend
and a smile that was genuine
not a killing
and a destruction machine
that he is now

Some people just don't win the big one.

And that's not fair.

It's not fair that some people work so hard to accomplish something, only to fail at it in the end.

It's not fair that people who like other people so much aren't liked back.

It's not ******* fair that some people feel their hearts literally break into a thousand pieces over love.

Over affection.

Over attention.

Over someone else.

It's not fair at all the way some of us have to live our lives sometimes.

Because sometimes,

Some people just don't win the big one.

And I'm one of them...

I can see your heart
Beating in my dream
Pumping harder and faster
About to burst at the seam
Eyes practically made of laughter
And your psychotic smile
With a voice I can feel,
Deep in my soul
Carrying for miles and miles
You made everything real,
Become nothing I've known
You're a ghost of a previous life
Slicing into my sleep
With a double edged knife
Silently waiting to strike
Yet, you always seem to disappear
Just before the final blow
With nothing to see or hear
And no where left to go
I drift off into my mind
A mass of blank space
With no way to rewind
Travel to another place
Or any other time
The distance between falling
and finally waking
Is immeasurably long
Because
This dream has become a nightmare
And not only are you gone
But you were never really there

Womanhood

In my ever eternal fight between
Pain and rapid mood swings
I have learned to accept
What I have been given by my mother.

Womanhood

In my ever insulting fight between
Objectification and misunderstanding
I have come to understand
"My body is a temple"
Is not a complement but an insult.

Womanhood

As my hair grows longer and longer
And I cut it shorter and shorter
And people tell me to "look more feminine"
I can't help but dress "more masculine."

Womanhood

Because I have to accentuate my assets
With tight jeans and skinny dresses
And if I forget a push-up bra
"It's a boy" jokes are made.

Womanhood

Because my knowledge of cars
And my firm hand shake
Awes men and makes them test me
Instead of conversing with me and moving on with their day

Womanhood

Because I am scared to leave the house by myself
And my father's overbearing protection
Instead of believing I can protect myself
In any given situation

Womanhood

Because my brother can go out whenever he wants
And can curse like a sailor
But I have to be a sweet southern belle
And answer a million and one questions just to take a walk

Womanhood

Because we have to justify ourselves
Because guys have to be perfect in the eyes of "feminists"
Because all of this bullsh!t has gone over the edge.

Womanhood

I can't call myself a feminist
And I sure ain't a misogynist
I'm just trying to scrape by
Just trying to get through this trying

Womanhood

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
Counting
Does not
Help the
Anger that
Is in my soul.
I have been cursed to become this abyss of endless cruelty and sadness. I cannot be saved and to be frank I do not wished to be saved.
I am a knife.
Do not complain
Of what you have forged me into.

Recurring thoughts, dark visions of a reality that can never be. A false time with false hope. Harsh lives, perishing in smoke.

I am a builder of many mountains
My bones grew with the limbs of trees
My rain will fill your empty fountains
I am the flowers and I am the bees

My bones grew with the limbs of trees
You hear my voice in the song of a bird
I am the flowers and I am the bees
I am blood, bone, sinew, fur

You hear my voice in the song of a bird
I paint the colors of the sunrise
I am blood, bone, sinew, fur
I lay where the fallen tree lies

I paint the colors of the sunrise
You feel my sting of bitter cold
I lay where the fall fallen tree lies
I am forever young and growing old

You feel my sting of bitter cold
I am the spider that traps the fly
I am forever young and growing old
My love it stretches from sea to sky

I am the spider that traps the fly
My rain will fill your empty fountains
My loves it stretches from sea to sky
I am a builder of many mountains

The day I put a mirror to my heart, To find out who I really was,
This world didn't change me, it didn't burn me with its flame,
No! I gave in to it, And once again I had no one else blame.

By now most of you know now,
This is your story too,
And no matter how much we draw and paint it red, green and blue,
We just can't fake it anymore.
It's still just cardboard world,
Yearning to be burnt down.