Everything is wrong about, not in sync, so dysfunctional, your hair reeks of pink
From the tips of your silly red shoes, to the very top of your dry, dreary head
I can't stand you, even the sight of you
Your beady hazel eyes that sink of flatness and superficiality
Only glinting when you mock humans galore,
Your voice needs to be beaten, your mouth sewn shut sore.
I can't stand you, even the sight of you
Your pathetic frame of 5'11'', acting as though you're a 6 foot beast
You have nothing to use to please.
I've seen your ****, there's not much there, besides pudgy ***** hair.
Pink little head and useless *******, desiring to stick it wherever
But never thinking about actions.
Silly, unnerving, a warped mind.
Have you ever looked in the mirror?
I may not be perfect and there may be more to eyes and spies,
But the way you speak forms a body so vapid and impure,
It surprises me you even think you're justified for little less, forget about more.
Vapid, shallow
Eyes carved by doughnuts and ******* sites
You want double Ds and hairless vulvas,
Aren't you reaching?
Pathetic.

I promise myself to never stop creating
To always dribble ink onto my flesh
My soggy wrists and tear ducts always open like my silly pegs

I look at the ladies before me
They are polished or they are cracked
Either way, people talk slander, meaty anger and ***** dribbles

I look at my sandwich
Whether it had meat or cheese or nothing at all
Either way, people would talk slander, slap a comment

I wonder if I could ever live bruiseless
I wonder if the only marks on my body would be my own
I wish my only mark on me was my henna

I've decided to make it very clear
I will never yearn for anyone's back
I will never smile for anyone but myself
I will never put my hands anywhere but for myself
A drink or two is my delight
Not my service to loosen into your mould, to be played with

Yet you see, here alas is my tragedy
I am free but I am caged by my own humanity
My human desires and cuddling yearns all across the ages of years

But even amidst the gloom and doom
I hope inside the cradle of my centre that a little angel girl with dreams
of solidarity and self-sufficiency
Could maybe one day read my words inside her entirety
Feel herself in these words of me
And see that I am her and she is me
I want you to learn from my example, not what they give me

I want to one day inspire a generation to think freely
Do for yourself but never once forget your personal responsibility
A balance of woes to create a life free of opulence and free of hate

One day, hopefully, one day
A little angel baby can look back to me and see
A way to move further and forward
A way to remain her fragility and live with her life hopefully.

Symmetry is what kills me
Everyday
Proxy and poking

All day all day all day
Symmetry is what kills me
Proxy and poking

What kills a lady
With a shuffling heart
Heart beats a pitter patter across a blood stream
Angles and ages

America, isn't the symmetry of my veins that carry my oxygen enough?
Why does the flesh
My mounted flesh
Purpose was to sheath me from the cold
Purpose is now askew
Mixed and messy
Even my perception is far from Symmetrical.

I apologize for my odd lips
Minor and minute
My DD faces
Is that not what the true face is?
The pink heads splayed across a globed smile and frown
Lopsided and all that matters
My true face is covered
But my true face is the object of obsession
My silly, silly old lips
My flappy *****
My rings of curly tresses galore

Symmetry still kills me, everyday.

(deleted)

Worry me not because of hazel eyes
Pity me not for transient hands, a transient romance

Pity those who live with a million backs,
Thinking as though they have selection
Merely selections, selections A plethora

No one wants, no one, mark my words
Genuinely wants to **** a ***** *******
Whimsical and flying, a absent look across your pasty face
Intrusive eyes tracing, your snotty nose across that silly face
That silly face you make, lazy used *****
Exercise a little more, won't you?
You're the one who believes he has an ocean

No ocean, no
A little cradle of girls with crumpled hearts
and slits on their embalmed pasties.

I'm disgusted, disgusted, disgusted by these sweaty ball sacks
Arrogance in their snorts, farts and living as though they can be
they can be disgusting, nauseating, revoltingly HUMAN

While I must adorn a satin sleek smile
Hairless ivory and flowery areolas
The ice cool temper of no wavering, no moving forward

Why must I be polished and pretty
Why must I put my soft palate against your sweaty naked jockstrap
Why must I let you crush my skull with your meaty, hairy presence
Choking my throat with disgusting salami of 18 years too late
Am I expected to smile and compliment you for this catastrophe?

No, worry me not that Hazel eyes no longer trace me
Pity me Not that I do not have meaty hands torturing my skull

Feel my liberation in your cold sock of cries.

**** **** *******!

(deleted)

I like secrets, because they keep me in line

What does a sail do when it is stuck at sea

At the mercy of those in his seat

What does a duckling do

When his mother is swept away

The tides of yesterday.

When I yearn for a connection

A true, genuine scrap of something

A finger, a hand, a cuddle

I can’t think of a single soul

A single soul

Who could comfort these dark monsters within the cradle of my centre.

I miss splendour, I miss thousands of genitals

I wish I could look into someone’s eyes

And see millions of moments, billions of words

All said, all touched, completely on exhibition for me, for us,

Mango leaves, dried trees

A true, genuine scrap of something

Love is an optical illusion

I find love at the bottom of my glass,

I find fear in an empty bed.

Worried sick

Horror lulled me into laze

Dazes, fades to grey

Ashes do not exist

Ashes do not exist

I am the ash of my own fingertips

I am the cigarette-kissed burns on my guns and roses.

Flesh, oh flesh

That is all that it is.

A first kiss.