Okay, you two. I want you to say sorry.
Now that she has said sorry, you have to say: That's okay.
There. Now it's all better.

**here is the problem with that, from a very young age, children are taught to simply SAY sorry, and not actually find remorse in themselves, they just say it whether they mean it or not, and they think there is no difference. The other problem: Even if you ARE sorry, not all things you do can be undone. Not everything IS "okay" now that you are sorry. Some things are unforgivable. It can't always be "all better".

I promise baby I trust you
And oh, you know I love you

But do you still want me ?
Your little baby
Is so very sick
sick
sick
in the head

Now don't lie to me
Whisper to me quietly
Would I still look as pretty dead?
May I take a peak inside your head?

I need to know

If your favourite colour is red
Or is it blue?
Both seem just as alluring to you

But how should I know?
Is your heart on your sleeve is just a show?
I'll ask, but I already know

you are as lovely within
as you are on the skin

For you
my grinch heart grew
3 sizes, did you say?
Must be our lucky day

send me to the chorus
tropical tunes take me away
drop the bass
let the reverb fade

I have all the time in the world to waste on thoughts of passing yesterdays and let the sky unfold in front of me like one of Picasso's masterpieces-
for the most part it leaves me speechless.
Skill grander than all- you cannot simply teach this

                                     ~

And i feel like lately the thing that kept me (in)sane
was all of that whiskey,
cheap food and *******
dont worry baby
I swear my whole brain chemistrys changed but just keep in mind
all my demons left untamed

No, I don't think I'll never be the same me
I'll always be a little crazy
All because of these
finely ground, exhilerating white lines
in between petty crimes

from bathroom stalls to thousand dollar coffee tables
each cut a string loose
that was keeping my floaty mind stable
coming back to reality,
a complex cat's cradles
all going on under the table

With everything so sporatic, did you read all of my tale?
But only those with displayed dedication know if it is fact or fable.

at the mirror above the wash basin
i pause at my reflection

in spectacles and muffler
is a face familiar

where have i seen him, where?

i remember it was beamed on tv, newspaper
made headlines for some days
before on an early dawn

he was quietly snuffed out.

from the mirror
i make a hasty retreat

so closely resembles my face

with that terrorist!

back on the writing table

i ponder

if the resemblance
goes beyond the face!