Crimson red beset
on body and brainmatter,
be it blood or ***.

I do not believe I could ever love anyone enough to make them my home. My home will always be red dirt and oak trees under the best sunsets in the entire sky with potato patches and country dirt roads, fumbling through sticky tourists on steamy days and letting the salt water feed my skin on the beach I spent all my summers at. My home will always be raspberry cordial and late nights in lovers lane with Canada days in crowded parks and childhood pictures with cannons, my home will always be drunken sidewalks and midnight Chinese, dancing in my drive way and smoking on my back porch. I could never make home in a person enough to follow them away from the place I love...

So with a view,
I see a change.  
Wrapped up in ones own self pity,
Can the mind be changed?
So fair so pretty,
The eyes what do they show?
The lost mind of a lost soul,
How long can one wander through life and not be phased?
Their burdens hidden inside their gaze,
What once was is different and no longer the same.
Can any good be remembered before its too late?

I used to wear tinted glasses to hide my eyes.
I don't just mean every now and again,
But all the time- outside and in.
I'd scrabble for them in the morning,
Groping wildly in the sunrise.

If, by some chance, anyone happened to spy,
In the brief moments I removed them,
And say "What beautiful eyes Mr Finn!
Oh whyever do you hide them?"
I would never tell them why.

But now I don't seem to mind so greatly,
So here's the truth; I downright hated
The way they always looked so **** happy,
Even when I wasn't. I always felt
As though they betrayed me.

It didn't even help when I would frown.
I would practice in the mirror,
Contorting my face into grimaces,
Willing my emotions to be clearer,
But they let me down.

Now that I'm older I don't mind,
And have begun freely accepting
Their emotional misdirection,
Concealing the feelings underneath
To which all others seem blind.

I'm reminded of a MacEwen piece
Since, openly, my eyes conceal the truth;
"What if the whole show was a lie, and it ****** well was,
Would I still lie to you? Of course I would"
If those lies bring you relief.

Too much is said, its all the same
Love is lost, under forgotten names

Effort shows true intent
Has one lost this time spent?

Unfurling flowers bloomed for you
Vivid colors shown in every hue

My imagination ran away with smoke
Dreams sometimes, only choke.

Like Cherry Blossoms showing brief
Soon as coming, begin to cease.

i had a dream
i sat in a puddle of insecurities
that grew
everytime i lifted my phone
to check the front camera
"am i pretty yet?"
no
stop checking
you look exactly how you did
twenty minutes ago
except
your nose is a little oily now

i cried
at the ankles of a man i didnt know
"why will no one love me"
and he looked at the sky
and told me not to be silly
he told me no surgeon could fix
the trainwreck that happened
in 1999
and no one cares enough
to mourn it anymore

i need glasses
but my squinted eyes widen
at the realization...
THATS WHY NO ONE SEES
WHAT I SEE
my watermelon personality
drips onto the wounds of others
like lemon juice
where the **** is everyone going
i'd love to stay and chat
but my past tells me
that you're a waste of a heartbreak
im tired but i rather stay awake
because my dreams have seemed to be
the scariest horror film