She stepped into a garden with roses galore
She was looking for one, but just needed more

And then she found two, dazzling in sight
Whom puffed up their petals with all their might

Rose One was nostalgic and hated Rose Two
Happy moments were memorable, but only few

Rose Two was two-faced, but made her glad
All she wanted was to not be sad

She took both because she couldn’t decide
She thought she was happy, but at home she cried

She was confused, she had the rose
Was it not the right one she had chose?

Overwhelmed with sadness and pain
She knew one rose could only reign

She looked at her hands, deciding which rose would win
When she saw the thorn that had torn her bloodied skin.

Lonely bones
Skin stuck to your muscle stones
Hold me but make me feel empty
It feels like you're loving me *****.

And why do I want to hate you
When you swear your love's true?
Look at my heart, blue
Act like you don't have
A clue.

But I can see through you
Love pretends
We can make amends
But somehow,
It always ends.

The magnitude of words,
   Invokes to each a different response
     Many use this power for evil,
       And release it among the unsuspecting seeds
         Still growing, now exposed to hatred.
           It is then that they will decide
             If their sentences will be in malice like theirs,
               Or if in their hearts, repairing the reputation
                 Of beautiful language, is a better use
Of speech

the magnified, mascara applied
                                                    eyes of my skull
burn holes in my thighs
                                       mulling over the size of this hull

i chunder my lunch and wonder of
                                                          everyone else
and if they're also laser beaming love
                                                               i­nto themselves

or if they're boundlessly born with it
                                                              unstained smiles, strained bites
maybe they're just born with it  
                                                   no pained bile or insatiable appetites  

either way, i hardly
                              can infer
if my stomach is
                          half empty
                                          or half full

The most perilous person you associate with is a friend knowingly masquerading as a sheep

My future was sewn in the womb
I spent the former chasing my tomb
Wondering and wishing to be a groom
Here I am now, but was it too soon
To think back to that afternoon
Where I stumbled and found truth
Whilst still in my youth
Intoxicated thinking it'll soothe
The pain I made myself loathe;
No, I've aged and I've grown
I should know, that I should own
These mistakes that I've crowned,
And the hatred that I've vowed
To these thoughts of an entire crowd
So here I am, back where I clowned
My own love and heartbreak
To one stupid little mistake
Which led to my rebate
So here I am, still stupid and young

Me pondría las botas
con ***** de acero, llenas de lodo
para machacarte la cabeza contra el cemento
Y finalmente exhalar
el humo que me metiste y aún cargo dentro

Porque sé que me dirías que en vez de saltarte encima debería patearte
Porque arriba de ti no causo daño
Ya me lo decías tú

Quisiera agarrarte del pelo
Arrancarte el cuero cabelludo como peluca de ortiga
Atarte a un poste de luz en un callejón oscuro
Azotarte con tu pelo y cubrirte de tu propia caspa

Deslizar la navaja para abrirte una sonrisa
Aunque no soportaría tus gritos, solo por eso no lo haría.

Exprimirte las manos sudorosas
Y ensanchar el mar de distancia entre tu padre y tú

Ya calva, te arrastraría al barrio
para condenarte a trabajar de cajera
Y a no conocer a nadie que guste del arte
el resto de tu mugrosa vida.

In my first sighting of you,  
I painted a picture I could not erase,  
a canvas of disdain—your dress, your gait,  
the way your laughter danced like light,  
your long hair, a glowing shroud,  
your bronze skin, kissed by the sun,  
and the flowers you nurtured,  
while I, a ghost of my own mind,  
waged war against my garden,  
killing blooms for the weight I carry,  
the burden of looking at lives not my own.  

Yet, in the depths of my heart,  
I found admiration where hatred once thrived.  
I never craved your light;  
I like my eggs with edges burnt,  
my garden a desolate expanse,  
but in this solitude, I am not alone.  
What I know is a quiet truth,  
that to admit my feelings is to drown  
into the depths of my own despair,  
but I write this, inspired by the  
long shadows of your existence,  
a reflection of my own tangled soul.

They say roses are red and violet are blue
I say that nothing is really true
There different kinds of roses different colors
Even white so tell me if I should sit and sip on some red wine when I feel love when I feel happy or jolly maybe even rid on a pony thinking about this is funny because  I know there are different kind of violet even purple and blue so tell what should I do when I feel blue should I sit at the edge of a wall hoping to be push looking all flush or should I be still and be silence is this a poem oh I forgot when I'm blue I can only think of the red as the pages bleed with my words my heart racing thinking of what I'm facing I guess there two side to ever coin just like your heart I don't know if you bleed at my displeasure or if you wish to see me cover in these pages I guess your word really are like a two edged sword i wish instead of word you'll actually use a sword thinking back I'm wondering if I ever belong in your heart was there ever space for me did I really think it was vacant I guess it's occupied with hatred for me or maybe you have prepared a vacant tomb ready to be occupied