Little girls, little boys
Candy canes and flashy toys
A soft call, an enticing treat
Two obedient little feet
A huge smile, an invitation
A fun adventure to damnation
Restricted visions, muffled cries
Sugar bricks leading to demise

I quit
Cause you are not worth
The sea of salted tears
That spill
Assaulting me
You are not worth
The red elixir
That feeds
Your distorted
Vampire needs

I retire
Before my will expires
Because I am tired
Of seeing spires
Of factories
Smoking pollutants
Choking all humans

I am through
With claiming
That the truth
Will set us free
When all I see
Is a bubonic plague
Festering and growing
Tumorous cities
Of infinite stupidity

I am finished
There is not enough spinach
To Popeye my way out
So I exit stage
Flesh and rage
Pull back those skin pages
That life was written on
Letting strangers carryon
As the carrions come
To devour me

Cause I am ******* done

the whole point
is that it only hurts me.

fist connects with wall and the wall stands,
uncaring, unmarred, unaffected.
my fist though?

fist connects with wall and fist, no, i crumple up.
emotion heavy energy expels itself, i am relieved.

for an almost unnoticeable second, that is.
then i am in pain.

hot blood shoots to hot hands and hotter knuckles.
i slam them back against the wall and it stings like fire.

raging at the world, raging at myself,
but my skin is still colored like my own.
there's not enough purple, not enough red.
so i keep hitting until the burn is too much to bear.

at least i didnt hurt anyone else though.
at least i didnt hurt anything that could break.
at least i didnt hurt anything valuable.

i can take pride in that, i guess.
the whole point is that it only hurts me.

What I fear most are not the things that go bump in the night.
The things that frighten me are often times things that at first you can not see.
These things that first start with someone elses thoughts can too often be turned into negative actions. What may start as a passitionate thought, or cause can too quickly turn into a distructive action. This is why I fear insensitivity, crude jokes, apathy.
Other things I fear are people that talk without thinking about what they are saying first, or how others might interpet what they are saying.
I fear selfishness which may lead to uncaring actions.
I fear crude jokes that do not respect ones fellow man or women, because it could subtlely desensitize ones perspection of those around them. They may get defensive and say it is just a joke.
The constant violent images on the news and on television, may further desensitize others to think that volence is normal or okay, or worse still that it is a normal part of life. It don't have to be perseived as normal we can chose to limit our own exposesure to violence on television. We can let others know that we don't condone violence, whether it is on television, or in reality, or in our own community.
I fear all these things that at first hide inside the deepest parts of someones mind, long before it is publically seen. This realization of this hidden darknes,makes me cry, or scream, if I thought about it all before going to bed. I would cover my head and sleep with the lights on, and every noice would make me jumpy.
This is why I fear the things that I can not see the most.

watch me
watch me as stuff your mouth with flowers


watch me
as i hide your knives in my ***** draw


watch  me
as you strangle me in my sleep but im too ashmed to tell anyone

watch me
as i accept all the im sorry's and i didnt mean to's

watch me
as i t protest that this was all an over reatcion to the police that visit me each month concerned for mine and my childrens saftey

watch me
as i make the biggest mistake ive ever made and wont be the only one paying for it

You thought you could spread your legs
to the first stranger who spoke your name,
but even then you were so ashamed of your skin,
the marks and scars of the body you were born in
that you eloped.
You never came back.

You asked what you had to do to be loved.
To be wanted.
It was all you've wanted.

The first boy whom you confessed to smiled, amused,
and asked, so?

It's the question you've been trying to answer all your life.

so?

Your first kiss was at eighteen, ugly and untouched.
He only wanted your body,
but you've forced yourself to think otherwise.

Oh, love.
It is so sad to live in your own body,
to watch him watch her,
watch her link her arm around you and starts
telling you about her problems

Problems.
oh, you had them too.
but you were just a listener,
with ears always, always open.
you felt like a mute. your mouth filled with sand.

Do they know how much you love yourself?
You did.
You had to.
You were trying, but no. You were not enough.

At night he is always there, in your bed.
Your brother, i mean. Whispering how much he loves you.
But in the morning he is gone
and you have not seen him ever since.

This does not make sense.
No, no more questions.
Nothing will ever make sense.

Today, you texted a boy who used to love you,
and when he didn't text,
you nodded to yourself.
it's alright. you expected this. be calm. don't panic.

your friends call you the queen of sarcasm, of loudness.
Some asked why you were always so depressed.

Depressed. Empty. Sad. Vulnerable.
It's all you've ever been since the day
you saw the front door close behind your father.
Since the day you left your own country.

But your days no longer revolve around your mother's sadness, or your father's violence.

And you are too old now. No more lighting candles. No more days of fresh hotel sheets and smells of sunscreen.

In December, a boy confessed he liked you.
You didn't want to choose him because you were lonely.
And when you wanted to choose him
because you were lonely, he was not there.

You thought if he comes, you would give him all your love.
All the yellow light you've been hiding in your heart.

You wanted simplicity. Love and his eyes.
Stop, this is getting too long.