Not too tall --

Don't want him towering over me

Looking down on me

Humiliating me

In more ways than one.


Eyes should be dark --

Not pale.

Don't want them

Cold, empty, icy

Don't need

A shark-like gaze

To chill me to the bone.


Not too large --

Don't need him to tell me

Just how big and strong and intimidating he is

Can't have him saying

Outright or otherwise

That he could hold me

Or anyone else down.

What else are arms for?


Not too crude --

In fact, I just might want him to talk

Like a woman.

Don't get me wrong --

My vocabulary is colorful enough.

It would be hypocritical to rule out profanity.

But, as soon as you call me or her or him or this or that

'*****'

The bile will surely be climbing my throat.


Not too proud --

Yes, confidence is attractive

But conceit is certainly no match.

I don't care if he thinks he looks good --

I will most likely agree that he does --

But one who can not admit to his mistakes

Let alone answer for them

Is a frightening caricature of humanity.

I am so flawed, love

But my flaws are not the cause of yours.


Not too dense --

Anyone who reads this

Male, female, or other

And calls me a 'man hater'

Or asks what I would think of a man

If he wrote something like this about a woman

Should run along

For that is not what I'm saying

Not at all.


I know what I deserve

And it's just what everyone else should get.

I just believe

That 'do unto others'

Should not die

Once the ring is on the finger

Or the name is on the dotted line.

I just believe

That 'love' should not be bastardized

To mean an unconditional, everlasting loop of

'Whatever you want

Honey.'

Only give what you'd want to get

Only take what you know you need

No matter the giver.

Bestow and accept nothing less

And as much more

As you can manage.


Believe me

I'll keep doing the same

No matter what you say.

If you were happy to sit among the soil on which you stand,
Would you stay?
Or part ways?

This land among which you've found home,
Would you give it away,
and continue to roam?

Would you let another settle in this place,
Because you whole life you've only led a chase,
And fear the thought of remaining here?

Put your faith in the ground,
And you'll build a foundation most sound.
But you'd rather be done with this place of paradise,
And continue to run around.

At Night
I dream of My Mother’s Embrace
Oh, that woman
Skin and soul like earth:
So soft it nearly crumbles
At the slightest touch
Crooked smile like
***’s star,
Pervading me with light
Every time the corners of her lips curve upwards towards heaven

At Night
I touch myself to thinning, silvered, hair
Bushy mustaches
Old jokes withering away
Like the crunchy leaves from the frail
Trees of Autumn,
To slow dances
Under the moonlight,
Flashing my toothless smile
As you hold my small, brown hand in yours,
As I grasp onto your large waist,
There, in that pale, faint moonlight  you look down upon me
As if I am the most precious thing on earth
As if your slimy heart lies on my palms
This I dream
Of you cherishing me as if I am yours
Cherishing me Because I am yours
As my eyelids start to open
And dawn sheds himself on my tear-stricken face
Reality sinks in its claws
You’re not here, father
I will never feel  your embrace

When that specific person calls your name
and you hope it’s not actually you
That’s what wanting to forget feels like.

When they hand you pictures
taken in a different dimension
That’s what wanting to forget feels like.

When they randomly message you
over some ****** **** you said
That’s what wanting to forget feels like.

When you burn every note
that they ever wrote you
That’s what wanting to forget feels like.

When you tear down every picture
you two ever took together
That’s what wanting to forget feels like.

When you delete all of the posts
on snapchat, instagram, facebook
That’s what wanting to forget feels like.

When you unfollow them
on snapchat, instagram, facebook
That’s what wanting to forget feels like.

When you hate yourself
for still drinking and eating their favorite things
That’s what wanting to forget feels like.

When even though you’ve gone through all this trouble
they still somehow find themselves into your head,
then your conversations,
then your poetry,
That’s what wanting to
(but not being able to)
forget feels like.

Who have I become recently?
A person who subjectively
Falls apart,
Or has objectivity
Become a lost art?
I am unable
To make moves
And to get better
On my own.
And people know this.
So I have faked this
False happiness
Long enough.
Let’s going back to crying
And suicide
And wanting to die
Because it seems like
That’s what I’m good at most anyways.

Below the pale faced moon
Beyond the daylight
And the sun at noon
in the darkness blacker than night
She lays on the floor
Curled up and drenched with sweat  

He Creeps in the mind of the mad
A ghost he is
Haunting her head

Her skin it tore, nails grow into a claw
Oozing blood from flesh that's raw
Pale gray face and sunken chest
Craving him she cannot rest

Love is the pit
I find myself in
Too many times
To be forgotten by another
Who probably didn't deserve me
Or maybe I didn't deserve them:
Friends
Lovers
Family
I don't.

Love is like a pit,
And I slipped from the edge.
And when I fall,
I fall hard.