as my fingertips frost over
i fear my heart follows

for i'm not of venus
born to be a lover

i'm rigid and distant
unable to keep up

my semblance of self
nearly nonexistent

Am I like Pluto?
No longer a real planet.
I'm kinda just there.

DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, the grass is not green:)


too much to bare
the polar twins resemblance in no fair

now the run I understand
still the twist of burning faces is what I can't

ran wind free
a second of nothing but me

the blonds in uniqueness stand under the red light
wait until the fear cripples and the big dog bites

the tea boiling somewhere for no one to drink
the ruined building leaves a pile to think

pupils dilate
thoughts shrink swallowing the bate

yet the crowd remains
I shower in public and fingerprints don't stain

a red rock star barks
stage shakes and throats are mic marked

nice dreams but crap
the plutonian not funny when children under your feet you have

                                                           ­                      -------ravenfeels

One day, I belong with the rest
I lag behind, just trailing along
No one notices me
Until I'm gone
I'm part of a set
Without me, you're incomplete
But you don't notice me
Until I'm gone
You're still debating whether or not I belong

I've been ostracized from my peers after all the countless years
And now I simply don't exist
I'm left alone
In the frozen, black abyss

The most welcomed dreams,
they float no matter
what the consensus.

A bit pinched by Oliver Twist
campaigns, maybe,
but they vote for helium.

For to laugh is to shine,
and to shine is to supernova,
yet, still fit inside the head.

The hours, they are
a cascade of melting candles
burning a hole in the floor.

The only words spoken,
"My Very Educated Mother
Just Served Us Nine Pies."

But how can that be?
We're now one short.
Oh, bucolic heavens!

I grew tired of wandering
and returned to reality
in the angry haze of another
orphaned satellite.