do you think
anything
you ever say is funny
do you think
do you feel you have
the adudacity and the eligibility
to be loved by me?
go away
stay far from me

the grass is always greener
on the other side of the fence
these are the rules
i don’t make them
somebody is always going to be better than me
should i look up or down?
to the glowing sun
or the deep blue sea?
this is the blood, sweat, tears
of thirteen years
of hate and love for myself
this is the breaking
this is the growing
this is the healing
this is the faking of my feelings
against who i am inside
the grass is always greener
on the other side of the fence
in their ocean eyes i see the
future and in mine i see the past
in their hands i see pure bravery and
in mine i see brute strength and no control
and on their face i see and angel
on mine i see a spectre in
a twisted mask
that chips off
with every single one
of my tears
the grass is always greener
on the other side of the fence
from this side of paradise
all you see is my broken heart
and your hands quickly sew it back
as another stitch rips.
the grass is always greener
when you are on the other side
because no flowers would ever grow
if never washed with rain
the moon is always brighter
when the sun is there to shine
on its beautiful, silver face
that would be hidden by our
shadows till it melted into
space. this is the breaking
this is the growing
this is the healing
this is the alpha
this is the omega
this is the end.

i hear my mother
crying behind me, making
me up my meds now

i am the honeybee,
maker of the blood of the sun
i dip into the flower
and adorn myself in dusty light

they take my liquid gold
and keep it as a delicacy
forlorn, the sun will fall
i hear the honeybee’s buzzing symphony

belle femme soleil
eccentric pulchritude
little roses and
lilacs
echo from her
face with
elusive shadow tears. she
mourns for years and years…
my fair lady, sing your melody,
energizing the heavens with your
song of the sun and sea
over the hills and far away
little stars twinkle in your
empty soul
in your moon drunken heart, tell me which you dread more, the
lie, the echo or the answer

nobody knew how much she’d broken her own heart.
it was cracked to *******
and so much pain she couldn’t bear
her smooth skin painted in tears
salty like the sea
and cold, and unforgiving like dismal melancholia
she walks across the room
tiptoeing like she’s treading on new snow
amanda reaches for the bottle
and drowns in
a saintship made of modern renaissance

if ‘i love you’
was a promise
we’d start a revolution
no, it isn’t love
at first sight
its you, and me, and us
would you break the trust
if you’re honest?
i’d be lying if i said
i’ve truly loved before
because the lips are too weak
to tell the truth