Sometimes when the world feels too bilow,
I cover up my ears.
I fade into the shadows,
And wipe my dripping tears.
Nothing ever seems to be policanary,
Always moving further on,
With no destination…
Tune out the jabberwocky.
Ignore the noise.
Maybe I’m a crybaby,
Or am I poised?
Listening to all the shouting,
Drowning in all the loudness,
Shuddering at my plonious thoughts,
That fuel my fears.
What am I to do?
I must continue,
To push through,
This kilomuny, trepidary,
Oligarny, relinbary,
Foolish jabberwocky.

sometimes i write to no one
nobody is filling the void deep in my soul
so i make up fantasy men to take up the space
to fill in the cracks with their vibrant smiles
cheekbones accentuated
i instruct these prosthetics to heat my freezing
cold heart
stuck in a plain old reverie with kisses and children dancing in a ballroom
these fake and imagined life forms leave behind a vestige of fantastical beauties
these creations are flowing like water in secret caverns
dancing around my empty body
healing my blemishes but they still return to the creations’ surprise
they lift my limp limbs and lower me over the ancient greek pond
letting me drink the rich and luscious stream
filling my body with water, weighing me down
more mass and a bigger center of gravity
btw i am almost dead by the time they finish these rituals
these fantasy men care for me day in and day out, but they are sculpted from my mind
not real, this is not reality
they make me feel “happier” and “fuller” in my eyes but i know this is all a façade
naked and no one shall know
that the girl who waits here for fantastical sculptures to touch her and clothe her is a deep and dark disappointment
some say, “what an ingrate.”
some don’t even bother to care
nobody truly cares
and i figured this out many months ago
i am finally letting go
and as i turn to these creations i have created inside of my head
they blow and dissolve into the wind
therefore i have virtually no one
so i weep into my pruny hands
then draw the conclusion that i will never be loved
at least i know one thing for certain  :/

I made up a face in
my mind it was mine but
smoother, cakier, glitterier,
camera-ready to take
on the persona of the dry, spotty layer just
beneath the
surface

Beware the fuzzy rolligog
That smithers in the myre
(Confuse it not with golliwogs
In fuzzy blue attire)

Beware the rolligogan wrath
(They can breathe fire, you know)
Just feed them up on tigermoth
And bathe them in the snow

Beware the rolli appetite
Which consumes dozy trees
Where zigazots and clambermites
Weave pathways through the leaves

Beware the rolligogan song
There’s poison in its tune
As rolligogan night grows long
Prepare: they’re coming soon.

I see you sitting there
Purple hair flowing the the wind
You see me nowhere
And its my heart I try to mend