My heart speaks,
Through constellations
In the popcorn ceiling
"You ask too many questions",
It says

She spoke
with half-smoked cigarettes
and lilting cursive scribbled over last night’s letter’s return address,
her bags packed with only a backless dress.
Nails dripping black and red
blood and paint indistinguishable
in the darkness of the winding alleyways
zigzagging her heart.
She was truly, unendingly lost
in the mazes of her mind
as she traveled backwards with a string
lazily trailing after broken stilettos.
Yesterday’s rain still dripping from empty window sills
and illuminated by lanterns lit with fireflies
found solace in her silent tears
for they were companions,
cut from the same paper-thin cloth.
Maybe a goddess had worn it once,
but those days were long gone
when she lit it aflame with a cigarette
fresh from her lips.
Desire was never a question —
this she had learned from the fire
overtaking her overflowing mind —
and yet it was soundlessly spoken
on empty bottles
not yet broken and swept up by the sea.
Only the blind man could see her now
just as the deaf girl heard her cries
and thus she remained unanswered.
This, however, she did not mind
for being lost was no longer not a choice.

I need to get away,
I can’t handle these feelings anymore
Two people with so much love
And nowhere nearly enough to give
I want you and you
But I hate you and you
And at the same time I need you and you
Run with me
No! Stay ******
Don’t follow me
But please don’t let me be alone
Everything
will be alright I know
In my mind
In my heart

wanting to be seen,
wanting to be heard.

   all I've ever wondered,
   all I've ever learned.

      is that it's too much to ask for,
      that it's too much to give.

why then do you take from me
in every hour of your need?

Do you love me?
Eagerly, all-consuming?
Do you crave my touch?
Dream of my kiss?
Do you whisper my name?
When you’re alone?
In hopes I’ll show up?
Could you survive inside?
Without me?
Or do you love me lightly?
Do I make a pretty center-piece?
To your life?
Does my food taste good?
Do I feel warm?
Am I home every night?
Am I welcoming?
A comfortable place?
To lay your head?

Is R E A L I T Y even R E A L ?
Lately I can barely even F E E L .

                                                        I'm trying to F I N D ,
                                                        Why I've had a battle in my M I N D .

                              I watch as people L I E ,
                              Leaving the others to just sit and  C R Y .

Humans are evil, we let others  H U R T ,
And although it's not okay it makes them A L E R T .
                                                          
    ­                                                      I guess everything has a R E A S O N ,
                                                          Just like each and every S E A S O N .

                              So to answer my own question, L I F E is R E A L ,
                              And it's quite a big D E A L .