give me
a needle and a thred
at least
to sew my heart
back in place
just to see
if its beating again
those outchesting pulses
when hearing your name
im a puppet
stiched
by the flames
on your tongue
that keep me alive
healed
by your water that pours
every little flower
in me

cardiogram
the pulses
of my verdant heart
when yours
blooms inside it
but the fear
of letting go is strong
and i chose butterflies
over aching petals
in the weakness
of the dark

my slumber heart flickers
at the thought of you
how can you be?

its you and the moon
sleeping
wide awake
underneath and above
full of naivity

careless like the ocean breeze
and hearted
like a blank page
on a old notebook full of words
that mean
the ultimate
and complete
nothingness

maybe im dreaming
in a pebble-free glass
on a fire without the ashes
in a gaze without temptation
in a kiss without the tingling on the lips and a love without edge and cutting glasses
sometimes im dreaming
just like that

Unseen and uncounted,
did I sat and look
around –pathetic girl–
the only sound heard
the gentle move
of me easing myself out
your lucky hand.

Shadows casting by
the thin rays of moonlight,
the gaps in your heart.
Gnarled fingers
wagging at me
when my carved
feelings fight
and perform
their macabre dance.

Sighs.
And then I'm
just breathing again,
trapped in bornout faces,
lost in wrong places,
with just a superboy in my chest.

Managed to force
my way out,
doors locked,
lights and eyes shut,
just you testing
my sour mouth,
before my heart is done.

As a gentle pulse of my verdant heart,
caressing my gracious unrivalled dreams,
you are the color to my shallow art,
I observe you and at once my soul beams.

You were the nitid glimmer that saw me when I was in the purity of dark,
as if your captivating eyes told me
between us lays love's invincible spark.

Honey, your love shuddered my withered heart,
like the breeze that crosses rills and shakes oaks,
with the abscense of you my world falls apart,
to the ashes of our warmth die my hopes.

Roses are red, violets are blue,
I'm out of my head while thinking of you.


  



I am a forest
I am lively and wholesome
Organic and pure
I am a home for the abandoned
I provide for those who need
I am a giver
Who is never thanked
My floor is always walked on
My branches always cut
My resources taken advantage of
I am a necessity for the ungrateful
A savior for those who don't care
You are fire
Burning down everything in your wake
Charring my wood and
Turning me to ash
You are a destroyer of all things good
You singe and you melt
You arise from a spark
Come in uninvited
Sensing weakness
You travel fast
You leave too quick
But with every forest fire
Life begins anew
A clear slate
From which we can start all over again

A plastic bag is snagged in the branches where I can't reach to stop its crackled song. The bag is an *****—its kidney? Stomach? Heart?—of the thing that's dying. The thing's given pills and powders, and graveyards are robbed to replace its parts. When it dies, it'll be brought to the taxidermist to be stuffed, and its stiffened corpse will be strung in lights—a beacon for people to arrive, two-by-two, and scoop out the void from behind its glass eyes. And when the void has been doled around, the dead will shuck, jive, and shuffle step to plastic song.

so maybe we are not all we’re cracked up to be.
maybe we’ve less to be proud of than expected.
maybe they’ll think we’re less fire and all ashes.

so what. I care nothing for it.
the odds are inconsequential;
the fight will continue without regard.
remember this: I refuse to be the ashes.
we are burned but in no way broken.
and if we are not fire—
then we are flint.
tinder.
spark.
flame.

we work our way to becoming bonfire.

Stay up late just for conversation
A brand new face and a fascination
Passing compliments and smiles as if they're going out of style
Something seems familiar and it's something so peculiar
Hours on the phone usually don't pass the time but for some reason time moved faster than my favorite season
There's no doubt in my mind I'll be tired when I rise
But honestly, that's alright, I feel hypnotized
The newest of new - I just met him today
But he fits me just right like he's custom made
Mutual excitement, we may be thinking reckless
But I want him to hang around like my favorite necklace