I met myself
yesterday.
I was like
honey-mustard,
rich
and
tasted like gold.

My edges were
toasted
and
my feelings
color coordinated
wet without
the use of water.

But I realized
I no longer
wanted
to live
in my own mind,
not even
a second longer.

Raw meat on your silver plate.
Heavy fingers
caressing my bare flesh.
You cannot invite yourself
if you aren't welcome.
Then you used your
sticky, heavy and disgusting
thick fingers
to caress some more.
In my head  
broken people can only
create broken things.
So what if you created it  
you said while
everyone in the cinema
had melted hearts.
But this is no love story
more like horror.
For I would not bow
and you made me.

You have the smell of feeling something,
but the touch of regret.

Warm hands,
but a cold heart

You're like yellow,
a representation of happiness and sickness.

Sip on my nectar
as if it was yesterday.
Fuel your wings
and fly away.

If you are in charge
you will end up hurting
your own soul.

I plug in the
vacuum cleaner
to **** it up
and see  
if it disappears
into a bag
that holds
everything
that is black
and blue.

You cannot title her.
For she is not to be summed up.
She is to be unlimited and infinite.