Let's play a game,
with these red and white bicycle cards.
With our hands intertwined,
let's create the frame for a home,
of hearts and good intentions.
All the faces where on the inside,
eyes open with nothing to hide.
Let's create this house for our paper bodies,
filled with our paper love,
created from the one look spark,
our glass hearts couldn't contain the heat, so
love destroyed us.
Pick through the ashes
only bones, a skeleton of what we were,
gray powder on the ground that covers the roses.
Nothing left but the look of death in her eyes.
They said she changed after that.
They said she stares at herself in the mirrors of glass.
They say it's because she doesn't just see herself.
He's the the dark blue lines that bleed into her pupils,
he's in her veins.
Deep blue water that flowed free is now frozen,
but when she is alone with the mirrors
she isn't cold anymore.

the moon says to me
"you are mine
come with me
come far away"

but i go with you
to sit on the chalky cliffs
inhaling the salt spray
sharing *****
and bodies

in the rotunda we sit
gazing at flowers
your fingers entwine in mine
your breath takes my kiss away

the moon says to me
"come far away"
so i go

and though i leave you
you must not forget
our kiss in the dreamhouse

what makes me saddest when i think of you, as i admit i sometimes do
is the future we planned, that will never come true

but i cant complain
i'm luckier than most
i didnt get the dreamhouse
but i **** sure did get close

The sea is a landing,
The mountains, but ribs,
Merely brittle, sandy mounds,
That cradle and rock, my song,
The oceans, bath water foaming,
My body is all encompassed
In void, in elements of feather,
Light as the rays from the stars,
The Great Lakes are puddles,
And all bands of the ancient
Forest are wrapped in a ball,
The world is a playful bubble,
Only one note from the music
Of the spheres, a loosed bauble
Born of sparks, cosmic clouds,
Breaking in the nebulas of blistering
Iris, exploding in the joyous eyes
Of a waking child.  

                             Yet, there is only
Now, I am, locked in a dreamhouse,
By a vast sea, on old branches of tree,
And, I can only look, grow, daze into
Shut mystic heavens, and wonder.
Can I truly, only, live in dream?
My makeshift world is drying,
I am from sprinkled waters
Dropped like tears,
Graces that fell
From the sky.

The sea is a landing,
The mountains, but ribs,
Merely brittle, sandy mounds,
That cradle and rock, my song,
The oceans, bath water foaming,
My body is all encompassed
In void, in elements of feather,
Light as the rays from the stars,
The Great Lakes are puddles,
And all bands of the ancient
Forest are wrapped in a ball,
The world is a playful bubble,
Only one note from the music
Of the spheres, a loosed bauble
Born of sparks, cosmic clouds,
Breaking in the nebulas of blistering
Iris, exploding in the joyous eyes
Of a waking child.  

                             Yet, there is only
Now, I am, locked in a dreamhouse,
By a vast sea, on old branches of tree,
And, I can only look, grow, daze into
Shut mystic heavens, and wonder.
Can I truly, only, live in dream?
My makeshift world is drying,
I am from sprinkled waters
Dropped like tears,
Graces that fell
From the sky.

.
The sea is a landing,
The mountains, but ribs,
Merely brittle, sandy mounds,
That cradle and rock, my song,
The oceans, bath water foaming,
My body is all encompassed
In void, in elements of feather,
Light as the rays from the stars,
The Great Lakes are puddles,
And all bands of the ancient
Forest are wrapped in a ball,
The world is a playful bubble,
Only one note from the music
Of the spheres, a loosed bauble
Born of sparks, cosmic clouds,
Breaking in the nebulas of blistering
Iris, exploding in the joyous eyes
Of a waking child.  

                             Yet, there is only
Now, I am, locked in a dreamhouse,
By a vast sea, on old branches of tree,
And, I can only look, grow, daze into
Shut mystic heavens, and wonder.
Can I truly, only, live in dream?
My makeshift world is drying,
I am from sprinkled waters
Dropped like tears,
Graces that fell
From the sky.
.

Down the hill
near the sea
Is a place
you'd have to see

Happiness
was ours each summer
me and my sister
and our sweet mother

The best times
were always there
but now memories are spoiled
it doesn't seem fair

When I close my eyes
I rewitness a terrible thing
it was a normal day
I was sitting on a swing

But then the war came
the bombings, destruction and defeat
There was so much chaos
I just remember dead bodies and heat

My sister was lying
to safe her own life
And then she had to leave me
become some soldiers wife

It was me left in rubble
Traumatised and lonely
Seen most terrible things
needed someone to hug me

And then a hand
suddenly grabbed mine
It was my dear mother
but she didn't look fine

A part of her skull
was blown away
She was dying in seconds
but had something to say

She was trying
but no words came to surface
She shed her last tear
we were both worthless

I was alone now
and didn't know what to do
no house and no mother
nothing to stick to

I left the little
house down the hill
And now thinking of my dreamhouse
makes me feel cold and ill

The sea is a landing,
The mountains, but ribs,
Merely brittle, sandy mounds,
That cradle and rock, my song,
The oceans, bath water foaming,
My body is all encompassed
In void, in elements of feather,
Light as the rays from the stars,
The Great Lakes are puddles,
And all bands of the ancient
Forest are wrapped in a ball,
The world is a playful bubble,
Only one note from the music
Of the spheres, a loosed bauble
Born of sparks, cosmic clouds,
Breaking in the nebulas of blistering
Iris, exploding in the joyous eyes
Of a waking child.  

                             Yet, there is only
Now, I am, locked in a dreamhouse,
By a vast sea, on old branches of tree,
And, I can only look, grow, daze into
Shut mystic heavens, and wonder.
Can I truly, only, live in dream?
My makeshift world is drying,
I am from sprinkled waters
Dropped like tears,
Graces that fell
From the sky.

MY hands
MY hair
MY skin

"my choice"

u dress me up like a little ******* doll
pinks and blues,
lipgloss and holeless socks
sweetened words and subtle pokes

i never really liked the dreamhouse

MY legs
MY arms
MY midriff

i hate feeling like a mannequin
a *******  o b j e c t

Who in their right mind would ever want to walk away
from this dreamhouse in the forest?

Is my mind right?

The mothers and sisters all say to me
girl, settle on down

How important is it to feel profoundly fulfilled?

Fantasizing relentlessly
depletes my energy

It’s just more exciting than rocking chairs

So I continue to do it to myself