I'm a spinster,
sick of seeing my
sisters treated as
flowers
picked and wilted.
Their petals
ripped and ragged.
In a cloudy vase --
the water needs changing,
but what's the point,
at this point?
She died when
you picked her --
cut from her roots,
She is lacking nutrition,
She can no longer absorb
the wind's wild sustenance.
She is too preoccupied
trying to survive,
under-appreciated,
and ill-cared for.

Soon,
when she is dry
brown,
brittle,
into the compost,
she goes.
Fertile,
rooting another
devastatingly
beautiful,
flower,
told to wait
for someone to
pick her.

But if you think
a flower is beautiful,
let her remain
with her sisters.

Searching for a monument to build,
to my stranger nature.
A display of living purpose,
but it's paper,
A failure to surface,
when the current spills
my hopes out to the maker.

I'm breathing toxic calamity like a vapor.
I'm receding, firing soliloquies over faders,
and waiting for it to taper.
The baser instinct to sink into
to a shape conforming destiny's favor, amazing
but it's death in a manger.
A gift of unrequested breath
to levy questions of our nature
impartial but starting to loose
the fruit for us to play with

Don't play with your food
the canopy vines can't seem to stay in the mood
when amity cries
just as we bite another layer
and hope our spirit affords an existential favor.

The corporeal farce of the mortal coil
Where I'm going, what I've done,
who I am, who I have to become

Who am I to give a ****
about what has to be done
will I be actualized
if I inhabit the gun
will I be dazzled to find
that I should never have won
that all my fevers of prayer
were only threads to be spun

I am the definition of survivor's bias
clamoring for comprehension to a writer's silence
buying into lines reverberating in my mind
and all the while I soak
in revelation of the killing kindness

an absence of a unique purpose
a lavish elusiveness revealing
time as worthless, when I dig for deeper meaning
but seemingly informed by enduring
anguish in a world to test which
axiom I'll push the furthest
my reluctance to lift the curtain
My redundancy in spilling refusal
sooner empty than truly certain
My abundance of energy
filling the room
I bask in knowledge
Honoring the right to never learn it

And so I paint
I drape the walls and fall into
the sordid echoes,
calling through the mist.
Simple soothing bruising lips
They whistle darkness
move your hips
I'll leave a mark

I'm through with this.

I'm tired.
Not that tired
which makes you stay in bed.
But the one that
makes you wish you did.
I think about life
and the value it has.
It can be worth more
than diamonds and gold.
Or it can be worth less
than coal.
I chose the second option
because I'm tired.
But if I rest my life,
put it on hold
and let myself breath,
I could make life more valuable.
Yet, I wish I was in bed
and sometimes I'm guilty
of wishing I was dead.

love is what if-

love, what is if?

what if love is....

what is love if;

is love what if ?

Jesus came to Earth
To show us our true worth.

It was so much easier
When I just
wanted it all.

Dear protagonist, it is the antagonist writing a simple letter,
I am devoting myself to explain my faithfulness,
The only way I can, my love, for you to appreciate,
I’ll ruin the world, to prove my worth,
I’ll be unpleasant because that is the one path I understand,
How else, how else could you ever hold me?
It is not ballad humanity will sing,
However, please do consider; whom else can ever fathom my desire?
Ruin lies at our feet, fate and destiny is not ours to keep,
If I but for one moment could see your scarlet eyes, I would,
No river,
No god,
No queen,
No king,
No mountain,
No slaughter,
Would stand in the way of my pure black heart,
If I could see your smile as I fall,
As the world is victorious,
As I am imprisoned,
As I crumble,
As I fall,
At least I could see you once more,
There is an orchestra performing when you use that golden tongue of yours,
It is a pleasure; it has always been,
That the demons whom haunt me, you and you alone can control,
It is a paradise, my love, to be the wildfire you extinguish,
May hellfire consume me, as long as the last glimpse,
Is your face, protagonist, this is my faith, my belief,
I do love you, now, let me fall, further than ever,
Though never further than you can reach, my heart.

Whether it's an insult
or compliment,
their "two cents"
should never equal
your self worth.

Pay attention
to what makes you
                                                       DOPE
                                                                                                        and realize
                                                      you are                                                      
                                                                                                       PRICELESS