I didn't ever write a
Journal entry about last Wednesday night.

It was strange, the dampness
In the air and the cough in
My throat, and the whole world felt
Empty and deadened.

She didn't really want to
Go, and I guess I didn't either, now
That I think about it, after
All I could have been writing a paper.

But I had my alterior
Motives, which fell through and
I wanted to get out of the
House, to clear my stuffy head.

So we walked, like two girls who
Can survive on their own mistakes
And then after awhile
We walked back.

But we walked to the little
Playground instead of home because I guess
For nine-thirty at night we were
Both a little unsettled.

And we talked about God and I
Looked at the leaves on the
Pavement and thought about how different the
Uniform Methodist windows were from ours.

You’re not the one. 

You never were.
You won’t ever be.

I hope that someday you will see

It was you & not me.

You & I just weren’t meant to be, a we.

Each day is kindling
Night time consumed in desire

She is a matchstick
to my wild raging fire

Her thoughts are made of gasoline
Her touch is so hot

When she holds me
My whole world will rock

She is an angel with a robe made of fire
She licks at my flesh
and the flames shot higher

She is an angel
burning brightly in my might

She will devour me
trying to make ash out of the night

I will be the devil
To her earthly delight

But I refuse to burn
I wIll not ignite

She is an angel , a flame of delight
She is my angel
As we burn down the night

Radioactive sunlight cascading over tendons pulling under scar tissue. Carved out, flesh eaten by buzzards. If she was a real girl, she may have cried. Vultures, all of them.
Hacking at marrow of the innocent. Lilies bloom in her eyes.
Harps in the distance, church bells interrupt to strike eleven times. Glittering like a magic something in the nervous heat.
The illegal existence.
She has bird bones in her box of Him. His prints deeply embedded, even now. He smiles in her memory, flashing teeth. Going extinct.
No longer an easy replication,
but she keeps her shrine.
In her kitchen, petals start to fall in soft disgrace. Time stops.
It has been said, late at night, you can still catch glimpse of her gleam.
May even catch the kaleidoscope in her eyes. They do not understand this. With briar and rose, she turns herself into prose.

Be careful
Andrew, I’m
coming for your job.
Keep an eye on me,
because there is
only so much you can take back promotions.
Notice me and accept me as an
equal in the office.

Cheating me out of my due is only
hurtful to you and
each person who has thought less of me.
Andrew,
please take care in what you say,
every time you think I can’t hear your
negative comments, I can.

Devoid of support I can still rise,
and I will rise with or without you on my side.
No one can hold me back
going forward I will make you see my worth.
Look at me, you wouldn’t be you without me,
everyone knows it too.

Good morning everyone.
My sleeping is done.
I need to leave my
warm cozy bed.
That is what my voice is
telling me inside my head.
Please get up before you delay.
So before I go
and start my day.
I wish you all
a lovely wednesday.

Filling up my day with a cup of tea
Makes me feel a great freshness morning
But while till at noon
A nap inside wake up a call ?
how wonder it's just a little 
afternoon snooze to the rising tide of sweetness
And put my dizzy thoughts around.

With a great gentle breeze of a lovely song 
In My Mind to float & dream of fairytales
Makes my day beautiful
With A little period of rest
when I wake at a time that suits
I'll be refreshed again

Like 
Sunshine 
Saying
Hello.......
                                           - Chirayu:-) ...

Ever loved someone like
laying on the carpet in pain
watch the shadows on their face change
see the door open and close
these days the sunlight always looks the same

Tuesday and Wednesday is a blur;
I have not slept in between
I do not have the luxury of
Having a rendezvous with my bed

Tuesday and Wednesday is a blur;
And you are its perfect metaphor:
Viciously fast and vague
But I know a vice when I see one

Tuesday and Wednesday is a blur;
I'm weeding vices out one by one
Like coffee and/or cigarettes,
You taste so good