My words, becoming literal.
I'm losing grip on deeper thoughts,
I wish I could find something more
But darkness fills my deepest caves.

I cannot mask my blunt remorse,
Unsatiated hungry thoughts.
I try so hard but I am weak,
My dusty bones can't hold my weight.

I am a force to all I love,
A burden they cannot hold up.
I'm sorry I am much too frail,
But you don't have to keep me safe.

There's something wrong inside my head,
I keep on wishing I was dead

In the mist of all,
The pen is thy sword.
To guide words to a page.

Scribbling words,
Phrases forming.
Metaphorically speaking.
Like an actor with much,
Or too much.
Enthusiasm.

A heart is guided,
By its words.
The mind forms the phrases,
Pasting it to the page.

In the mind,
Images are forming.
Figuratively dancing,
In the eyes of the reader.

Many forms used,
Many styles created.
Forming phrases of wisdom.

The creator,
The master of this piece of art.
Forms Metaphors, Similies.
To say something.

A las!
Thy master piece is created.
Words pasted to the page.

This piece of art,
Was created by the writer.
Who is not afraid to share,
Their life story.
A writer by heart.
A Shakespeare in the making.

Creating poems of art,
Sharing their integrity.

They post their poems,
Unafraid to show their life.
That they live,
Everyday.

Juliet,
Don't you sweat,
Your love will be here soon,
With a rocket to the moon.

Romeo,
Please don't take your time,
To make her wait,
Is such an awful crime.

Darlin Ophelia come a little closer
There is witchcraft in your hips, let me into your bubble, I don't care what trouble you boiled baby I need to be spoiled
Find your way back into my bed, cough that water up and let's jump into the dark
You leave me stumblin for a step stttutterin for a word, and the shape of your legs makes me slur

If love is tied to the stars, and to fate,
to what seems to be just a fleeting dream-
Perhaps star crossed or maybe all is lost,
Will we know before the end of the scene?

Are there hints? If so, what do they mean?
What exactly, do all of these signs foretell?
Is there a theme amongst the clues, between
Half-hearted attempts at wishing well?

But on these things, we do not dwell-
Passions play should be a victimless crime.
No heaven, nor hell, nor friar, nor spell,
Could part us before our appointed time!

Can we live, with the world as our rhyme,
And as poets, play our songs to the part?
Would you be mine if I could divine
the secret melodies that lay in your heart?

So this I swear, before God, in this state-
To love you, as if this were our final scene.
And then forevermore, our love will endure
As an endless dream within our dreams.

matter can't be created or destroyed
and something inside of my head tells me that i matter
or at least
tells me that i cannot destroy myself

i have always existed, in one form or another
it's just that i've only had a body for 21 years
and the rest of the time i was a little less than human

i have two choices
to be
or not to be
but i don't think Shakespeare ever took a science class

we have-- to be
and we can decide what to be
but we cannot decide if we are or are not

we never chose that

our existence
is a beautiful mystery

one that i wish to understand

there are only two choices
to be
or not to be
like God

we are the pilots of our own experience

where will we go
what will we look at
who will we look up to

will we absorb everything the night scene has to offer us
or will we open up in the daylight like the flowers growing from a dunghill

we are stuck on a planet poisoned with
pride
****
pieces of the devil lodged in the crannies of our soul

but who am i?
i have to be--
i have to be--
something
(but my choices haven't defined me all the way yet)

The things that threat me
Never seen, but my back
When they shall see
The face of Caesar
They
Are vanished

If I was beautiful
And rich
And my family had a rivalry
With another family in town
I’d definitely fall in love
With one of their kids
And sneak out at night to see him
And he’d crawl in my bed
And we’d fool around
Hoping my parents
Wouldn’t find out
We’d try and run off together
Be free from our parents
And all their expectations
Who would care if we’re young?
We’d be in love
And that’s all that would matter
Right?
So we’d get married
Behind our families’ backs
And come up with some elaborate
Out-of-proportion plan
To run away together
Like they wouldn’t be able to find us
So I'd pretend to die
But Shakespeare’d **** me over
And my man would just play dead
Only for me to really die
So that he could continue
Winning the heart
Of every poor innocent girl
He'd meet
So much for star-crossed lovers
But me
I'm just seeing stars
I’ll never call lucky
And I won’t be thanking