I don't want to read,

I don't want to write.

Because If the poet's not Dead,

There's hope for their success,

and a reminder of why I won't have mine.

My husband's Famous. His Girlfriend's Fine.

He's On Wikipedia.

Maybe I'll pick up my pen and start writing mine.

Sometimes I feel like there is more than just air in between our bodies than these bricks.

There's tension in between the concrete,
You are here wondering when i'd leave.

I'm here thinking That i should do what you believe.

Is It worth it?

2759 days, you could write a book, get a job, Maybe out of this country.

There is No white. I  Am not white.
If anything, I'm grey.
I want to stay,
But here you are, Pushing me away.

You don't want to see me because one day you won't.

Maybe I'll stop pursuing this case.

There would been have hope for A different situation.

But you got your mind made up On fate.

I love Grief.
Grief is the only thing that keeps humans going.
Happiness slows us down,
Sadness Hinders you,
Anger Blinds you.

Grief Gives you A Goal.

When Your Luck pops right back Up,

You will Succeed.

His fingers glide down me as if he knows my body like it's his,
I bet he knows that just his touch alone sends chills down my spine.
I try to concentrate on his pink tainted hands but my focus lingers to his pale lips kissing my neck with his naughty hands on my hips tickeling me as he guides my body along his, and the music. He knows i'm his now, he has me in the palm of his hands and before I can tell him, he trails his lips to my ear and whispers " Babydoll, you'll never find someone who loves you, not even me"

Pity is the worst comfort you can give anyone. They keep coming back for more. Addiction, like a drug
The truth is the worst lie you have ever heard. You don't want to accept it. Your in denial.
Evil is your lover. You say it offers you freedom. It only offers you a path to doom.