the truth
a petrified sphinx
idol of the natural mind
plagues of fear
and riddles of the world
determined by stark and anguished introspections
passions and beliefs
apocalyptic visions
shadows and voices
by philosophers that sleep
without her tender curves
and clinging kisses

let's lounge around
in fire red *******
my face a tempest
melting between spread thighs
my tongue a rampaging monster
contemplating the meaning
of  butter cups and honey pots
that drool tears of gratitude
on a boulevard of arched feet
and dimpled buttocks
cream and cuddles
my holy sacrament

she is
alter to the gods
and besides breath it self
all the truth i will ever know

The first day is always the worst.
Your eyes are puffy from bawling the night before.
You drag yourself to class, but don't remember what was taught.
You shut your brain down and lock your soul away.
But the moment you become *sane again,
Tears threaten to fall because he's the first thing you think of.
You put in your earbuds to let people know not to mess with you.
Sad songs that remind you of him are played on repeat.
You want to ask him if he's okay.
You want to run back saying it was a mistake.
You want him to cherish you and love you.
But you can't go back.
It's better this way.
And the worst part is
*You'll regret it everyday.