It's not the way you looked
It's the way you felt inside
The horizon is always booked
That's okay , I say with a sigh

Our days are long ago history
Our love just seemed to pass by
Tumbling into time's mystery
Leaving nuances between sad and why

I rub the rib I'm missing so
I no longer care to fight
I'm just wishing that you could know
How dark it is without your light

There is more than one star
Harboring in the sky tonight
But I'm looking just for one , so far
With all my earthly might

love is just a chemical reaction in the brain,

and *** dolls
are purely silicone.

humans are 90% water,
and 10% carbon.


scratch tickets usually yield bad results.


soda is bad for the kidneys.

exercise hurts the back after prolonged periods.

elderly men are going to die.


young men are going to die.


women are going to die.


this ant is going to die,


and he never knew love

I took a shower tonight.
But I didn't wash my hair
Or my body or my face
Or even my toes.
I took a shower tonight.
And although the water was as hot as it can go
I stepped in and my whole body froze
From my hair
To my body to my face
To my toes.
I took a shower tonight.
And I just sat on the shower floor
I put my face in my knees
Let the billion clear little razors
Roll down my back
And down the drain.
I didn't cry.
I didn't break down.
I took a shower tonight.
And I just sat on the ground
And I sat in the shower.
Till the hot water turned cold.
Three hours of sitting
of mini razor blades rolling gently down my back
And in just a moment.
I'll get in my bed.
And I'll lay.
For about six to seven hours.
Until seven am
And then I'll put on my eyeliner
And be on my way.

You're an Angel
"You're an angel", he says.
But beloved, how can I make you see?
My wings, they caught fire, and now they're the color of ash.
"You're heart is made of gold," he continues to say, "the purest there could possibly be."
Oh, Beloved. My heart?  It's made of wax and stone. It melts and hardens, all at once at the sight of you.
"Your dreams and ambitions are what makes you beautiful," he tells me.
Beloved... How else to explain, but to say..all my dreams are by road where the trash is. I'm falling harder, headed in a direction, opposite of the stars.
"You're a warrior. And I love you."
And then there it Is; the way He silence my fears. You love..me? A mess on the inside and an even bigger mess on the outside? Scars, bruises and shards? Me?
And so I smile,
because dearest Beloved ; your affection is what I live for.

A friend of mine
told me they don't
like to write poetry
because it's too dark
and people tend to
panic when they read it.
When they send poetry
to their friends,
the responses are usually
"are you okay?
let's hang out
I miss you"
As though to make up
for lost time and apply
social interaction to
staunch the bleeding
that has formed such
turbulent verses.

But perhaps if those things
were said more regularly
without provocation,
their poetry wouldn't be so dark.

THE FOREVER FLOWER

she hands me a stalk
"The flower's dress
fell off!"

"Fix it!" she cries
I by sleight of hand
fix her flower but with a different colour

"It's a different colour!"
"The flower..." I tell her
". . .changed its dress!"

this flower
with its dress fallen off
I hold forever

We joke
about the pain
of being hated
by our savior
We laugh
about the justification
of abuse
from those who were better
than from those whom we came.
We sigh
at the fact
that we never had
a childhood,
only a struggling
lurch from one
punishment to the next.

We love,
now that we are
free from your oppressive
games.
We live,
now that we are
out from your control.
We lie,
when we say that
the uncaught crimes done
don't hurt anymore.

Of course they do.

But we flourish,
determined to carve
out our own paths
down empty roads
leaving you withering
in the dust.