What you don't understand is
I'm okay with being different
I see no need
To remain in the dull flows of life
I will not apologize for making you
"Uncomfortable"
                          Or
                             "Upset"
Because you see
All I have found reality to be
Is hypocrisy
Be honest, you teach
Then yell when I tell you what I think
Because apparently I wasn't respectful
To your big ego
And failure as authority

You say that it is maturity
To bite my tounge
And hold back your thoughts
That, this is how life works
So I might as well give in
To the surface deep conversations
Of weather
Or news you pay no attention to

                          But I will not
                            Nor could I
                       Ever apologize
                      For my strength
                           As I refuse
       To conform to the restraints of this
                               world

I am your disease,
every time I come around you vanish me
in every cry whimper or sneeze
I am the ****** in side your head
you are to scared to embrace
I am the horns of the devil
and the smile upon the angels face
I am the dream you cant control
I am the drug that makes you go

we've turned into the monster
that we fought not to be
deep in a darkened whole
black eyes no longer see

burning bridges
perceptive imperfection
a left hand turn
in the right direction

I am your release
everything you want you take from me
echoing your disease
all you are and all you will ever be

elapse relapse reprise your demise
I am the horns of the devil redesigned
objects perplex reflect there subjects
I'm the smile upon the angels face

you are the moral in my dark soul
the purpose to be found
a voice tells you to let go
it's more beautiful 6 feet underground

laying in bed dreams of voluntary aggression
upon waking disappointing depression
or are we being naive now, thought dissection
deflect suspect rejects, infection perfection


who will even see the things we create
think it's great to annihilate the whole human race
debilitating thoughts not knowing how to feel
like naive dogs lost without there master

treasure pain, because without pain
there is no pleasure hit the main vain
insanly refrain from the mundain strain
bane lame thoughts plains of blood stains

I'm asking not knowing what is real
conditions of contradiction & elusive entities
entanglement of putrid bodies
in a mind stricken by poverty

Some girls sell their virginity for five thousand dollars

My virginity was worth 25 dollars and a bucket of ping pong *****

I don’t see the guy much anymore, he’s very important; worth a lot more than a coffee date and a kiss on the forehead (or briefly on the mouth)

My dad knows I kiss boys. My dad knows I smoke. My dad says not to tell my mother, so I don’t. “Gauky teenage girl, smoke up, don’t tell your mother”

"Have a drink don’t, tell your mother"

"Take the car, don’t tell your mother"

He doesn’t know she’s dead. Dead to me. Dead to herself. Mourning someone with them at the same time is a weird thing. Stages of greif don’t come in tidle waves, they come in laundry fights that last 2 weeks, and sundays when we can’t get out of bed.

Its easy to romantasize parts about yourself that are untouched; that sound mundain, so they must be gold. I live in a college town. Someday I’ll be someone’s girl from indiana. I ****** a boy with sharp teeth who told me I was “******* beautiful”, but the reality about these things is that they don’t matter.

Every state has college towns (there are many other like it, but this one is mine). Being someone’s girl from indiana doesn’t count for ****, what does that say about me “my girl is a geographic mystery, because no one gives a **** about that *** **** southern mess”.

And that boy, with brown hair and sharp teeth told my I was ******* beautiful, but in the moment it made me uncomfortable. I didn’t like his body, or the way he sat. I thought his passions were redundant.

So don’t fall in love with yourself

Don’t say grace

Don’t kiss on the mouth, and don’t tell your mother

Winter
Winter is joy
Winter is holiday cheer
Winter is cold
Winter is dark
Winter is stress
Winter is lovers
frolicking in the snow
forgetting their worries or cares
Winter is
Our world
Long ago
Summer
Autumn
And spring
Vanished
Gone without a trace they are gone
They are ghosts of the past
The warm comfort among the cold icy blanket of snow
That covers the earth
Winter has come
And there is no escape from it
Spring autumn and summer are the thoughts
That get us through the mundain activity of the
Scrape
Scrape
Scrape
Of our shovels against cement

Woe betide me when my mind grows frail from the timelessness of my age scale.. when my years of yearning has ceased to score.. as my eyes are weakened and can see no more..

God help me when I sit in pain and my thoughts of thinking hurts my brain.. I have minutes of only wax and wane amidst my days of meloncholy mundain

May the good Lord take my soul when my heart stops beating it’s rock and roll.. as my time on earth has met it’s fate and I climb yon steps to the pearly gate

But let my life in verse bring memories..from memoirs of my treasuries..those books of poetry in one’s hall..lined up along the library wall..shall shine sweet smiles upon their faces..from my foregone past and reminisce traces..