She broke her heart.
She snapped it.
It was a little fragile.
She let him play with it.
Teasing and tormenting it.
He used it like a rubber ball.
Bounced it round and bruised it.
He made her pretty eyes sob an ocean.
His eyes were terrific.
Her eyes were too.
His eyes were her main attraction.
His hair was thick and black.
Hers was reddish and shiny.
Glinted in the morning sun.
Evening tumbled from the day time sky.
As she smiled and kissed him goodbye.
(C) LIVVI

I see pieces of me
everywhere I go
like a missing puzzle
incomplete...
imperfect...
its you... only you
will complete me...

the eyes that see
  are not the eyes that yearn
it seems the eyes that seek to find
  are not the eyes that learn
yet eyes on fire set afire
all that earns the heart's desire
  passion lights the pyre
    and the fire keeps
      all that the fire burns

I never felt a fear quite like
when flipping pans of eggs
with perfect grace
and fluid poise
I flick the wrist
and raise the arm
and know they'll land
in perfect form
unbroken yolk
to simmer warm
yet as they fly
some panic joins
and carries through
the narrow arc
where topsy turvy
eggs now rise
and twist onto
their fragile heads
my world with it
my face of dread
for one mere second
I know I have control
but do I?

Rid me of this bitterness
It's getting the best of me again
They try to help, but I protest
Thinking I can carry on
Trying to pretend

Rid me of this jealousy
It's hard enough to just let you be
I could not believe my eyes
But somehow I'm not surprised
That you weren't the one for me

Rid me of this aching heart
Everyday I fall apart
I'll just drown in my own pride
And set the love aside
So that it seems like I felt nothing at all

Wearing hate as a disguise
Truthfully hurting inside
I can forgive
But I will never forget
Letting you in, will remain my biggest regret

But how can I get over
Something that was never mine?

The party tonight should be good
I wonder if you'll be there
No, probably not
What's this fly doing in here?
I wonder what purpose a fly serves.
Does he know he'll die in 24 hours?
I hope so.
The sound of this washing machine is rhythmic
1, 2, 3, 4,
1, 2, 3, 4,
See, dirt, no, more,
Fresh, clean, for, me
1, 2, 3, 4...
Where's the five?
A five should be here
why is there no ******* five?
Oh well, back to the poem...
1, 2, 3, 4...
Are you thinking of me?
Do you miss me as much as I miss you?
I wonder if you'll just appear under the strobe lights
So I can make your face out
Through the screen of hallucination
Tonight
1, 2, 3, 4
This fly is still here
I hope he tries jousting with the ceiling fan
1, 2, 3, 4,
My, heart, is, torn,
Walk, through, my, door,
1, 2, 3, 4
I, am, so, high,
Lo-sing, my, mind
1, 2, 3, 4...

Dream had a glass of wine with me,
Faltered through my reality,
Disrupted my slumber,
Caressed my wandering thoughts

He picked a book, old faded cover,
He turned a musty yellowish page,
Picked out a line and read,

"You, my own creator,abhor me.
What hope do I have? Shall I not
hate those who hate me? Shall I not
lash out at those who wish me ill?
You accuse me of the worst,
yet do not yourself shrink,
from inducing far greater violence on me!"

I woke up. The tale of the lonely monster lay next to me.
The pages were turned but I had turned too.
I need to love my creations. I am a creator of my own.
I can be a classic tale after all.