.
                                    how is it?
you only live once.
but you can die,
a thousand deaths.

                                    how is it?
i can be blinded,
by your beauty.
but beauty is
in the eye,
of the beholder.

                                    how is it?
that i live,
only for you.
but i live,
to change the world.

                                    how is it?
love is a,
battlefield.
but love is,
life's refuge.

                                    how is it?
you loom large,
in my eyes.
but you make,
the big things,
seem small.

                                    how is it?
that to you,
i am a queen.
but to me,
i am love's
fool... lost.

                                    how is it?
history repeats,
itself.
but you are,
my first truelove.

                                         how....
*how...

I lay myself in the line
Naked and vulnerable
You plastered a sweet smile
Sliced my heart in two

Trust flows without a thought
Joy radiates
Who knew I played
Right into your game

I let myself be free
Fully exposed to scrutiny
You took the opportunity
And broke me completely

Fear cripples me
I can't trust anymore
I can't go near you
You radiate the pain I feel.

A gentleman once asked,-
'Why sail the infinite sea?

So torrential and torrid;
too much for me...

Encompassed by water;
no place to flea.

Incalculable harbors;
she hears no plea!'



I raised my face against the sun,
hearing him, but seeing none

Just to be, sir, just to be.

When I die, dear Mother
don't give my body away
to science.

I'd rather have it given away to poetry.

I want people to cut me open
and observe
how my bones were riddled with
melancholic verses of joyful pasts.

They have to see
the scarlet of my blood was the hue
I stole from the sunsets of
wishful thoughts.

Dear Mother,
give my body away
to the art of writing:
for they have to look past
everything they have ever learned.

They must know
of how much I loved and I lost,
and how that made the twine of my ribs
a story to tell.