I'd love to
Live on
An artic island
To watch the snowflakes
Move across the water
To cover you
In white
Feel breezes
Truly ice
See skies so
Friendly they
Smile so
Threatening they
Growl

Ah, only to be an artic squirrel,
To sleep till the cold sword past,
Dreaming of green--
Below that cold artic slash.

Only rousing self when the sword hits my sleep,
It pierces my burrow,
Slaying the colors and the maiden,
With its merciless degree.

Ah, to awake to darkness, but with light coming from the door,
The cold sword is sheathed,
And my dreams are restored.

Knotts Island  10:oo pm wedsday Feb  9   2011

It was like any other night spent at the doctors office slash
Dr Jerry's trailer.
Drink fine deep conversation about world events and *******.

I had went to the porch for some  introspection  and to take a ****.
Dear Lord Man!
What I saw was proof i had done way to many drugs and slipped yet into another rambling state of Gonzo.

White  powder covered the ground  it was a gift from Jesus or Elvis really   whats the diffrence?
Hunk a hunk burning  clap  it was pouring ******* from the sky !
I burst through the door like Lindsy Lohan fresh outta rehab

Jerry !  
Gonzo!  
Jerry!
Gonzo!
What are we yelling about Jerry?

I dont know but zip your pants up.
I know your a **** but I dont need to see it as proof.
Jerry a doctor a fellow brother of Gonzo
and true deep thinker.

****** man what was i gonna say i really need to lay off
the drink *******  Dr Pepper.
Well smack my **** and paint me purple and sell me to the Canadians.
dont ask.

Jerry good lord man look  outside its a true miricle.
Now only if it would rain strippers and wild turkey.
That would really be proof the easter bunny existed!

Jerry shaking his head for he knew his drugged out mental asylum bound  friend with a heart of gold or at least bronz  needed some alone
time in a padded cell looked out the window.

See i told you !
It's ******* snow Gonz ya *****.
snow what the hell's that I thought to myself while speaking
out load on a poetry site   where people think what the **** is wrong with him.

****** I should go outside more than once a year.
these seasons really throw me off like Skeeter  on
a cold night.
****** i told you  not untill you pay for last time ******!

She was a true lady just wish she took credit.
After a breif explanation time travel and where babies come from.
Dr Jerry returned to his favorite hobby surffing facebook
for underage *****  hey dont judge  how do ya think i met my wife?

Yeah man look at this one amigo sent me a friends request.
Jerry showed me a pic of a hot looking chick
and being she was good looking and talking to Jerry ment either
two things.

One the Gonzo On facebook page was down due to such high traffic
cause im super awsome.
Dork  you got like 14 friends.
Jerry went back to looking at the computer screen.
ha ha ha ha ha *** not funny.
Cyberperve!
I know you are but what am I?!

****** man he always get's me with his mature 40 something living
in his grandmas back yard  logic oh snap girlfriend.

Or Two  this little monkey  was really a ****** or a mormon
whats  the diffrence but enough with the foreplay children.
Jerry sat deep in thought and four **** hits and ten shots of turkey later sat the puzzled.

Amigo what do i say to break the ice?

The lights dimmed  a voice from the heavens spoke or New Jersy
John Tesh  apeared from the closet  ****** man i thought i herd really boring music from there i thought the rat poisen would get him for sure.      
    
When thought's are blured and both hands are busy.
When you just cant seem to find the words to break the
ice to that hot little hamster across the net,

Take that extension cord from around your neck and get
head out the oven dam you Slyvia Plath.
Just call dah da da dah da or however it ****** goes
sorry i dont watch   super hero movies although
I need a pair of thoose tights.
IT'S A JOB FOR GONZO.

Move aside silly girl I'll break the ice for you!
Umm  no Gonz thats okay Jerry replyed in that no
but it means  yes seductive five packs of cigs a day
sandpaper voice of his.

Trust me Jerry  Im a writer and i know how to
talk to the ladies  yes my friend how they do love Gonzo
Oh they pull out there pepper spray fire there guns
but inside they have a thirst for crazy.

No Gonz it's okay.
Dont mention it Jerry.
Gonz !
Jerry !
Gonz!
Jerry!
What the **** were we talking about and why the ****
are you in my lap!
Good question my friend but least your happy to see me.

At the keys the master or insane half wit began his
works of geinus this would break the ice for sure!

Dear Sarah

Wow all I can say is me likey.
And may I say that sweater really brings out your *******.
We should get togather and  talk  bout  things
while naked in bed to bare are souls.

Something about me.
My name is Jerry im  superbadass hells yeah.
I like drinking other peoples beer i can bench like a
thousand pounds.

I have a big   tv. What get your mind outta the gutter!
Lets drop the small talk you know ya want it why fight it.
Let that inner tigress out meow kitty  
Lets get naugthy and do things to make us both
purr in the litter box.

Kisses Dr Jerry   giggles and a gay *** emicon,
xoxoxo.

Yeah I know what your saying no wonder im such a ****.
And no wonder i have to pay for *** and im always alone.

After some mock tears and a snuggle   we waited for I know a
turned on little nymphs  reply.

Hey Kids it's  time to play are favorite snow game.
car surffing  in the blizzard cause im a drunken idiot
okay that kinda hurt.

Driving around the mean streets of KI  hopping officer
Rutherford was off duty or searching some drunk woman
looking for  some goodies hey I wonder where my sister is?

We at the rip roaring speed of 10 miles a hour What ?!
Hey saftey first that and the snow made it really hard for Jerry to hold onto the roof and pass the bottle.

We laughed we cried we lit are farts and made a beautiful
snow sculpture of two snow people getting freaky right in the middle of the road  hey kids blame it on the Beatles.

After we took out a few mail boxes stole a few garden gnomes
And taught a jaded soul how to love agian  we were
back at the office slash trailer in jerry's grandmas backyard
yes to think he's really come a long way since the tent.

By the warmth of the fire  music and fine drink to
match are deep conversation.

Hey dude ya think think that extenze stuff really works?
And if so if you took a lifetime supply  could you answer the door without getting outta bed?.      
        
The knock at the door was sudden.
****** man I knew it! Snow monkeys hide the
penut butter  and  put on some Kenny G!
Hey **** Kenny G  
Dam you John Tesh Go back into the closet where you belong!

Jerry looked at me as he usally does.
Like this ******* really needs some shock treatment.
Talk about a charge.

After Jerry assured me it wasnt the artic monkey's come to take there revenge   and promised to read me a bed time story what!
I have a inner child oh was starved of kickass stories.
Like Jack And The Beanstalk ,Catcher And The Rye,Or Debbie Does Dallas.

I opened the door to see a  large angry looking man
with a axe in his hand hmm dam lumber jacks  there always
on the job.

Are you the perve that wrote my 13 year old daughter that perverted
email on facebook?

Oh no im Gonzo im the other pervert who writes really long rambling stories on a a poetry website that arent really poetry
or very good,And drinks alot and doesnt make much sense

Yet always bring a laugh to demented people across the globe
cause yeah im super bad ***...

The man stood unfazed gritting his teeeth *******
me with his eyes hey it's cold okay.

Uhh no sir that's the perve your looking for over there
looking at your daughters pics hey ****** man we have
company  stop that.

I made my exit to the sound of screams it was like
a pit bull was latched onto a girl scout the agony    
Well looks like things were off to a good start Jerry was already meeting Sarahs  parent.

No need to thank me  Jerry
Remember kids if ya need a little help in time of need.
Look no further than Gonzo.

Slower than a fast moving virus.
He can leap small dwarfs and some short big girls in a single bound
kinda.

Gonzo fly's  of into the night in a epic soon to be forgotten.
B movie moment.
Stay Crazy.

Look Im flying.  **** tree!

Splat , Crash, Boom  Ouch Shitfire And Flying Monkeys
Next time I'll take a cab.

Adios Amigo's

foxes tail held still
sniffing slyly for a meal
slips down blind crevice

meadows that stays so green at spring
and so bared in autumn
magically white in winter
scorching and gold in the air of summers

perennial.

how do they do that?
to stay the same on the foundation
yet ever-changing on the surface.


what difference does it make really?
what kinds?
of the surcoats of hazel and acorns
or the blankets of snow on the slender branches
of trees?


don't they, even once
feel weary of all the undercurrents,
of shifting shapes of shadows?


and stand their ground
and shouted their demands
and push at intractable walls?


and flop down
and sift like flour
and grate like mozzarella?


to toss the gauntlet
say


'enough!'


doesn't anyone ever muses then
of whether the slideshows of nature
being flagrantly displayed and paraded
before their soon indifferent eyes
would feel of their performance.


but oh,
those poor meadows,
those poor meadows,
those pitiable meadows.


continue with your acts and scenes
that shall never pauses nor halt
oh no, no.


for you are impressive actors
on the forested stage
and the eyes, belligerent
yes, they are
will be watching the other way


never straight to your eyes
your artic, chilled
encasing a turbulent, melting, whirling
hot caramel core
yeap, right there on your irises and pupils.


so go on
go on


my delectable
my neglected
my pushover
my poor meadows.

My love, my love these shaky Isles
Abandoned in the vast blue seas,
Born in Mesozoic times
When sedimentary oozes ease.
From far Antarctic mountainsides
To windblown dust from Austral plain
They lay in layers thick and deep
Beneath the Tasman Sea's domain.

A thousand million years of ******
Of plate tectonic shear and drift,
Mid oceanic larva seep
Determines continental shift.
Deep magmatic plumes arise
From down within the planet's core
To burst asunder from the crust
As mountain God's volcanic lore.

Ash and larva from the vent
In pyroclastic feirce display,
Obliterate the cold blue sky
Explosively in massive way.
Rooster tails of feiry ash
And bread crust bombs cascade about
Vulcan roars his rage to all
In violent, vast, volcanic route.

Ignimbrite flows from the vent
In sheets a hundred meters deep
The incandescence, from on high,
Would, watching Angels, cause to weep.
Like quicksilver, it cloaks the land
To cover all in burning flow,
To last a million years as sheets
Of sharded rock where 'ere you go.

So the land was born of fire
And bent and twisted by the force
Of upthrust from the great, beneath
And earthquakes felt throughout, of course.
Earthquakes of unearthly fear
Wrack foundation's very base,
Sudden as the artic gale
Unpredictable to face.

So the shaky Isles were born
Here to lie in ocean's vast,
Clad in forest lush and green
Snowclad mountains, rivers fast.
Well kept cities, well kept towns
Population proud and clean,
Beauty all around is felt
Perched atop creation's dream.

So the Shaky Isles exist
Perfect in their place in time,
Perched atop subducting plates
Perched in ignorance sublime.
What's around the corner now?
Who's concerned, who really cares
For Kiwis make the best of now...
The rest remains as chance declares.

Marshalg
Celebrating a love affair with my beautiful New Zealand.
31 August 2012

Its 2 am and the streetlights are slowly crawling by. This song is humming from rooftop to wheels. You are passed out in the passenger seat. You lost count of the drinks you had tonight - the numbers lost their claim when you were toilet side, hurling the night back up. But you dont care. I saw the way your eyes spilled with her laughter, your words soupy with her speech.
You called me up because you know I'd come to. Because I always do. (I sometimes wondering if you know I keep my ringtone on during nights when the drunk texts stream through.)
This song is playing. I ask myself what sort of prisoner I have become, and where you dropped the keys between the drinks? I move to stroke your hair like before, but I stop myself - do I wanna know? Repose kisses your cheeks, and the stars dance on as you sleep with ease.

We left without a goodbye. Reasons, I don't care to remember at this point. I hurt your delicate soul. You were warned too late. I can't even begin an apology letter because I don't deserve your forgiveness.
If you think I am any happier than I was before I met you, you're sadly mistaken. You believe that hand is of another women, no my sweetness.
It is my creators hand. The only person I haven't destroyed because well, how could anyone destroy their own mother..
You fell for a cold-hearted monster, I'm sorry. You didn't deserve any of the pain I gave you, but you took it anyway and let me spoil you more. I believe you deserve what the world has to offer, but my darling, I am not a creature of this planet, I can not give what is not mine.
I would regret it so much if you were to not smile everyday. Because you have a warm heart, a good soul. You were an arctic willow in my garden of darkness.
I'm sorry I couldn't keep you living inside my hollow world of forgotten things.. You are not a stupid girl. In fact, believe me when I say you did the greatest thing by letting this shadow go.
I will forever remember the way I made you feel. Because I could brighten up someone else when I couldn't even brighten myself.
You will always be a stitch in my soul that could never be undone. I am grateful to have meet you, my sweet arctic willow.

O I see
They want more money
And more power

And they don't care
Don't much care
About the earth

And the Arctic circle
Is meltingggggg

Global economies in debt

This planet is really ******* up

Born in blue ,died in white.
From far off seas she cried.
Fathered by winds from tropical hills.
Mothered by artic tide.

So off she set ,sisters in tow.
They dance, they chase ,they play.
Fishermen fear their shouts and their cheers.
Their boats they shake and sway.

And as i float not far from shore.
My paddle close to hand.
With one last breath.
I hear her voice.
As she sings to bag-n-bun sand..

My collarbone was damp cotton
as shuddering turned to heaving
and his limp neck sighed.
I figured the only advice
I could give was my
favorite handkerchief
and the repeated whispers of
“It’s going to be all right. It’s okay.”

In the artic air the puddle
on my shoulder
froze over and my coat wouldn’t
stay put without the silk
sliding around and folding
into origami cranes
that were pecking at my
head, asking incessantly
as to why I didn’t stay
in the garage and help
him on his half-finished

car. His heart was breaking
and for the rest of the
night my shirt was wet and cold.

It was a dream,
To explore the wines.
The Cabernet Sauvignon.
With a bold fearless taste.
Aged only a few decades.
And in a glass,
The smell of charred cedar,
  Baked currants & Satin pulled sage.
Which was the dripping spirit
of the grape vines.
The passion would be the Saxifrage.
Snowy herbs,
Caught from the coldest flakes,
Of an Artic storm.
The aromas of violets & sweet basal,
Made a home in the burgundy tint.
The dark density spiraled from
The acid in edible fruits.
The golden gooseberry's were a surprise,
A leather flavor,
Which kept you sleep longer in the morning.
The Diamond Creek is a dream.
For dinner, a medium rare, prime rib,
Topped with plum skins
Thick smoke,
& mushrooms from a forest.

I didn't want to leave.
But I woke up anyway.

I sit here,
Staring at your name,
And I don't know how we went from Lunch to the coldwar
in a heartbeat.
And I keep wondering was it that kiss goodbye?
A kiss that said to me, in soft sultry tones,
'hey see you tomorrow'
And to you? To let go?
A move to fast? for those who like to move slow

No matter how many times I look back to try and see,
Inside your mind, Through your actions,
Read you reactions,To the things that I said
To the way you held me in bed,
Nothing,
Nothing explains this,
Only that misplaced kiss

Your artic stares and cold shoulders,
Do not render my resolve to resist,
But they hold my heart in a glacial grip,
And it hurts, That something so wonderful,
is over.
That memories made from our early morning escapades,
Will always remind me of us,
Hand in Hand,
and unafraid,
of touches, embraces, and kisses goodbye
somehow in that final night our fire died

That misplaced kiss goodbye.

Have you ever experienced the touch of death ?
I have..
Ive felt her thieving hands run through my hair.
Ive felt her abandoned palms hold my skin.
Had her frostbite fingers trace the paths  of a thousand winters across my face.
I watched as she stole everything from me.
Helplessly watching as it all disappeared.
I hid my tears amongst the April showers
Watering the flowers for the funeral in May.
The numbness of her artic touch has made my life eternally blue.
But we continue to smile because that's what life expects us to do.

~p.w

when aborted day
is given chance to rise
sun being blood red
life giving way for dead
with seas boiling over
and the artic becoming
a lush verdant green
your senses don't betray
leaving would be keen

The waves collide against the ocean shore and covers up the footprints that lay before. As it breaks into sonority then to calmness; harmony is created. As we watch the dolphins swim, we grasp only peace and serenity. We feel the breeze in the wind and our feet cresting the sand. The dolphins echo in the far distance; yet it seems like they are within our reach. Their skin glistens from the beating of the sun. The ocean departs, but beauty is still found between the cracks of life and death. The church bell rings and wakes the mourners from their sleep. Everyone is preparing for the awake. Sorrow and sadness is within our hearts. Our flesh was ripped and torn apart; parasites were eaten away at our stomachs. We covered up the tears we had shed; as we walked in the funeral parlor and saw our friend dead.  


            The meaning of death is the ending of some one's life; it is a departure from this world onto the next. Death brings upon alterations for friends and family because we are force to say good-bye to an individual that was once part of our lives. The feeling of loneliness strikes through our hearts because a missing piece is gone. The ironic aspect about death is even though it brings sorrow, it awakens a fear in the depth of our souls. It is a sudden realization that death can happen at any moment. Rather we expect it or it raid with no warnings. The perspective of life alters, we stop taking so much for granted. The uncanny feeling we receive when we stand in front of a coffin; a dead corpse lays in it. Eventually their skin will decay and deteriorate; their bones will become brittle. Then only a skeleton will remain in the bed that once laid someone that was a part of this Earth. Now a tomb stone marks what is left of their body. With a quote that is engraved on their stone that represented them; a remembrance.

            The day approached and my heart and soul were in my throat; I felt as if I was paralyzed. I cried so hard that every time I spoke my voice would tremble. I was torn apart. My insides burned into flames; my organs were at a crisp turning into ashes. My head was pounding; confusion and disturbance ran through my mind. I could not embrace any clear thoughts. It felt like a thousand voices were contemplating in my head. My nerves showed through the shaking of my hands.  My entire body ached of pain; nails were piercing through every inch of my skin. I did not want to believe that she was dead. A part of me wished it was just a dream; I wasn’t ready to face reality. My thoughts gyrated around delusions. The last memory of Laura that I contemplated at her funeral was when I saw her, a week before she passed away. I glanced over at my perplex father; as he leaned forward for the entire ceremony with his head down. It was the first time that I saw my father cry and when I did, I felt the burning of souls trapped in Hell. His eyes were cloudy from the tears. His face became languish; as his hands shook from the nerves arousing. That day he lost his girlfriend, his best friend. Half of his heart was stolen and crumbled; a gap was formed and now remains empty. I could not read his mind, but I did not have to because his pain penetrated through everyone's body and emotions. His body was still, frozen like an ice burg; not even the sun could melt away my father's sorrow.

            It was time to say our good-byes. My father and I slumped down the aisle dragging stones behind us. We approached Laura's coffin and for a split moment he just gazed over her dead corpse. She laid in her peaceful bed, but she wasn’t awake--she was dead. Then my father took off his hat and pressed it against his chest. He leaned in to kiss Laura on her artic cheek. Just like Romeo kissing Juliet; my father said his farewell. Overhead rolled in a thunder storm and the pressure of rain began to pour down everyone's face. In an instant my father's love for Laura broke the glass of every window and stopped all movement in the funeral parlor. From that moment on I viewed my father differently. I knew right there that my father would never love another women as much as he loved Laura.

            When we left the funeral my father's and I relationship changed forever. Laura was the link that connected us; now there is a fissure that separates us. After facing death I finally understood the meaning of it. It is not a gathering for mourners to say good-bye to a love one, but rather a time to come together to celebrate a remembrance of a life. For even dolphins need time to rest forever at the bottom of the ocean. Laura's biggest dream was to swim with one; now she can forever rest in peace with them. Now I walk this Earth with Laura underneath my feet, with a gravestone reading “Remember me not as I am now, but as I use to be”.  

            In conclusion, life is a precious gift that is not meant to be taken for granted. Through Laura's death I realized the value of life and how it is too short to accumulate regrets, hatred and the past. I also embrace the life lesson that her death taught me; every day is another chance to grow, change, forgive, and to make a difference. My friend Laura will always impact my life forever. Death is a rude awakening to a human's eye; a realization that puts fear in our lives. Through Laura's death I discovered that in reality it is a natural beauty, not necessarily a final good-bye. I learned that a life truly never ends at death because the memories are what keep them alive. Just like the common prayer says, “Fill not your heart with pain and sorrow, but remember me in every tomorrow”. As I go on living my life I try to live it to the fullest. Laura's death awoken an acknowledgement that life is a gift, not a privilege and at any moment it can be abstracted from us.

Lessening my steps, walking in the breath of my own soul
Faded, guided by her voice a midst the night’s artic scowl

Absence of calming pulses to divert my alert listening
But Weakened, cold, yet continuing
All that follows is, being glad to see you smiling

Forgetting about you, why can’t I just be your friend
There is too much to account, too much to loose by this trend

I don’t’ know where this may end before I come to mind
That someone, elsewhere by serendipity will be my godsend

Inside you know, and though that maybe so
I cannot say nor imply because you are not clear also

Being beside another is enough to relate to another
But being at their side in there time of need, and somber
Is enough to consign emotion in wanting to be their significant other

There is no rhyme or reason

Xmas is the season

My hearth aglow with lights

My kitchen smells of sweet delights
I wish to share the joy

With kith and kin

And strangers, ahoy
In the midst of the faces

I adore

My thoughts are also

on those not ashore
May this season
Bring, A rose,
a ring,

For that Matter
anything

That warms  
my heart

And gives me wings
To fly

like a dove

spreading the
message

of peace and

of love
 
From Artic to Antartic

From Africa to America

From Russia to Asia

From Europe to Eurasia
Let us all join hands and pray

That God bless this planet Blue  

And bond our hearts with his

Special glue
So that we sing in unison

We are one, we are one!

World's shrouded in grey
The enemy now laying in siege
Blades and broken steel covering the earth
Rivers now red from the blood of the dead

In the fortress stand the survivors
Their rage is hotter than the blood of the earth
Hearts gone cold
Colder than the harshest artic wind

New plan daring and bold
Down now they go
Much like the 700 before
Into the night they leave

Armed with Fire's wrath and Ice's cold
Now they take the field
With their companions broken steel they march

Vengeance now personified
Few now charge
Letting loose the unholy screams of anguish
courage against fear

Broken now is the siege
few now stand among the newly dead
News quickly spread
Enemy hurriedly fled

On this, the last night of our world,
As rockets flare and people scream,
A floating mount of artic ice
has made a nightmare of our dream.

Dear Charlotte, get into the boat.
Don’t make an orphan of our child.
I smile and lie and say that I
will be along in just a while.

She nods, and we share a final kiss,
a kiss redolent of goodbye.
It is my hope that they will live,
while I prepare myself to die.

Doomed gentlemen upon the deck;
noble, wealthy or in trade.
I play as brave as any there
In this, our final masquerade.

Their little lifeboat floats away
adrift upon a sea of glass.
I pray, for the first time in years,
full knowing that this cup won’t pass.

Should I go down with the ship?
That is the Captain’s choice, I hear.
Or put a gun into my mouth
And firing put an end to fear?

No. I will stand with these brave men,
Who made the choice that I have made.
We’ll leap before Titanic sinks
And in these depths  find honorable graves.

A *** bottle slowly imploding in on itself for a universe – you told me that was how you were born.

If Man wants to be soothed, Man avoids the trampling, follows the drumming
thrumming beats, and Man finds peace in a glass bottle full of itself. Artic ocean
ease in a cupped hand, press into a paper and find release.

Snap, there’s a picture, Man takes it to a pin and lets it sit for the world, meaning
nothing to Man other than perhaps an igloo or self-royalty dream.

I’ll take all the dark parts of your heart for you, She said with a kiss, knowing full
well that he would have nothing left.

That boy talked to Man and they had a good conversation they could drown in.
Spectacles skewed and clothes everywhere, a swarm of self pity breathing fresh snow air.

Man said, sorry, I can’t feel.
“Who are we?”

Man said, shhhh, you know I can’t hear you; I can’t feel.
So just miss me hard.



http://suchpoeticthoughts.blogspot.com/2013/11/human-qualities.html

I'm not one at times to be easily loved, I'm also not one
you could quickly hate. I still appear afraid, even with a
brave face on. I could be romantic, but I might not have the
right words in person. I think a lot about ***, but feel comfortable
on the thoughts of still being a ****** (sometimes)

I'm not always moved by the crowd, or like to follow trends.
I'm photogenic, mixed with social anxiety amongst the unfamiliar
faces around. I barely raise my voice; sadly won't always be so manly.
I value family, though mine is so divided. Their subtle rude
humour is a form of love. I have it too, so I hope you don't mind it.

My music taste is a wide tongue of different genres.
Artic monkeys, Twenty one pilots, Frank Ocean, Kendrick Lamar,
Hippie sabotage, Bach, Earth Wind & Fire, and one or two songs
by Rihanna. I prefer to listen on my own—in the sense of bluetooth
speakers filling my anxious anxiety. At least with earphones on,         I feel free playing with full volume. And writing poems in great variety.

I'm learning to cope with long hugs, but just ease off from the
sides. It's a fight of being overly sensitive to touch; or me
liking those tingles at times. Or maybe I'm saving my sensitive
parts for a future wife. I try to swallow my pride, but it's like
a knife, cutting me from the inside. I've thought about suicide too
many times. Passions being only imaginative in my mind. A gift
with a curse behind, so unkind.

I'm unlike my father, only with his temper at better control.
They say my looks come from my mother; but my character
definitely is a mix of both.

I'm weird, humble, funny, emotional, girly (sometimes)
cautious, moody, caring, charismatic, shy, awkward, the worst
dancer (without a couple drinks in me) calm, wise, and still
finding out more about myself.

                                         Yep! That's basically me. (Messy Entirely)

radiating out of the hollow hole inside me
where butterflies used to thrive
is a saddness so enveloping
so thorough, that it is filling me up.
and drowning me from the inside.
suffocating and sobbing and begging for air,
it beats at my eyelids and bursts out of my eyes.
this icy saddness which freezes and burns my throat
and makes me curl up like a sinking body in the artic oceans.
as if im protecting the frozen hollows of my heart
against any onslaught of unrequited love i might suffer next.
everynight i find tears on my face as i chide my sobbing
into a quieter tremble of my body,
i cannot let anyone see how torn you've left me
the mask i wear is perfected, self created of shame,
i wish i could show someone
im not as unbreakable as i pretend.
but though i ache to be loved
and i miss you
and i have dreams of kissing you
circumstances demand
that i suffocate and sink
to the coldest darkest place
that i have ever been.