Even if I can't let go
Even if my face won't glow
Even if it means I die slow
Even if you never know
It was you I would die for
It was you I would stand up for
It was you I would always adore

Precious, Vicious, Devious
Your my rose with ****** thorns
My soulmate with devil horns
Happy one moment
****** the next
There's no telling what to expect
Heavy internal bleeding I inflict
Death is the outcome I predict
My genes are rich, off limits
Ancient yet far from primitive
Anglo Conquistador
Aztec El Jimador y Cazador
Arising From The Sun Pyramid
Templar Knights Solomons
Temple Te Doy Un Ejemplo
Simpleminded completely blinded
Let me rewind it to 1492 history
Was it truly a victory?

Just a little piece of content
Love, live, laugh, is my intent
The one to gift you a present
The one I'd always represent
The one that lives in my heart
& fortunately pays no rent

The Martyr The Apprentice
The President The Ruler
The Battalion Commander
The Ambassador The King

It's no Kingdom without a Queen

I'm just writing to write.
In the mood to write.
Words keep coming into my head but I make no sense of them.
Sentences pop into my mind but they mean nothing.
They're just words.
Why does it matter how many I say?
Why does it matter how many I don't say?
I don't want to be loud anymore.
I don't want to be giggle-y.
I don't want to always have a smile on my face.
I don't want to pretend that everything is okay.
I don't want to put on a fake happy persona.
I want people to see me as a real person.
Not a person with a childlike laugh.
Not an insanely happy or peppy person.
I just want to be seen as me.
A girl who has real emotions.
A girl who CAN handle it when you tell her things.
I'm not immature.
I'm not under-developed.
I'm not a genius.
I'm not simpleminded.
I'm just in-the-middle.
I'm in between, like every one of you.
I know, I'm rambling.
But is that okay?
There are so many words bottled up in me and some of them are so irrelevant.
But I want to say them.
I want to express myself but I can't.
I want to be me but if I am me, no one will understand.
"Why aren't you happy like your usual self?"
"Why aren't you giggling when I light-heartedly mock your laugh?"
"Why aren't you smiling?"
But then.. Maybe there will be that one person who realizes that..
I'm not always how I portray myself to be.
I'm just a confused little girl.

When I die I'll finally have the time
to go visit with my mother,
do the dishes and all those little somethings.
It'd be more money-coming
to my sister and brother.
When I die I'll maybe turn to the Lord,
the only room and board I could afford.

When I die don't bury me.
Just a ghostly linen sheet will do.
Prop me up in the corner discreet.
A Stetson hat, underwear, and my Italian shoes.
When I die let's have us a time–
big bonfire in the woods with wine.

We can go up to my shack
where no one can find us,
lay around in the sack
n' get simpleminded.

I want to know what you think about late at night
Are you like me do you take every idea and dissect it till it's out of sight?
Wonder why your brain is constantly at war with itself
Take every little idea , read it and put it back on the shelf
Or is it feeble, simpleminded, a burnt out light?
Why can't I read you, you're bound shut
Why can't I tell if you're worth the trouble or am I just stuck in a rut
I want to tell you how I feel, but if it didn't work out  that would ruin all our little dish room inside jokes about Key and Peele
How am I supposed to bottle things up when I can't find the seal
Why do I spend all my tired nights up writing about you
I don't know who you are, I don't know how to feel

I have beheld
the simpleminded
lark, who sings
sustained
until the very moment
he crumples against
the glass--
I have beheld
the fruitlessness
of his path.
I see now that
the sparrow is
propelled, and what
propels her:
a heedlessness
an artlessness
behind her.

I have held
the hand of a man
in tears and
pet his head.
I have walked in-
to churches one way
and expected to come out
another: naivety.

I have come
to understand why
few ever find
the tunnel's exit.
Behold: one smoker,
smoking; one sad
girl with an older
man; one blind
woman, walking;
one foolish bird
in flight
towards a window.

I was silently within myself, when
bzz bzz bzz

You rang.
Exuberant, I answered.

First it was small talk,
insignificant,
fit for the simpleminded in my Art History class.

Metamorphosis occured,
unexpectedly.

And

Here we were.
You, crying,
and I, deeply sighing,
Passed an hour in that glorious manner
Until you knew the tides had turned
and the spark had gone.

Our bond, though,
Will never weaken, never falter

we are forever united,
Held together with the most permanent ties short of True Love:
those of True Friendship,
that most lovely creation.

Christlike in our treatment of each other,
we share:
consolation
empathy
affection
tenderness
joy

And, occasionally,

Small Talk.

So....you hate me and think I'm a fool,
A lost, simpleminded forgettable tool,
Someone who knows not what life is about,
You stand right in front of me beginning to shout.

The first, few words,  I heard so closely I say,
But after those words all your others went away,
I looked and looked in your eyes full of hate,
I'll take in a movie, is it still too late?

You stamp your feet like a locomotive in motion,
I'm not listening now with your horrible notions,
I feel a laugh swelling deep inside of my mind,
Your nasty and pushy and mostly not kind.

I glad for the earplugs pushed deep in my ears,
Hoping you won't notice them, this is my fear,
And as you get redder and your blood now is hot,
I'm glad that your leaving, your company not.

So....as the door slams and silence fills the air,
I wonder why you really thought I would care,
But how it now shows you that love sometimes sours,
No movie tonight with the now late, late hours.

You did not ask for forgiveness
Not because you feared
Nor of your pride—not even of laziness.
We both knew—it was pointless.

We aren’t simpleminded, you and me.
We know forgetting is not easy.
We could drown ourselves in happy pills and cheap thrills,
But even hungover in mornings, we remember.

You asked me if I were angry that you ****** my friend
[I thought of saying, “You colored her one shade of gray,” but whom should I kid?]
You misunderstood my confusion with jealousy.
The girls I envy, I want to bed too.
You chose the wrong friend.

I am not generous with drama.
It occurred to me you only wanted to crack me open.
“You are rock hard,” you told me.
I wanted to reply, “Yeah, harder than you get sometimes.”

You did not cheat nor lie to me.
I was there as you went back to your base self.
You disappointed me too much that I chose to sleep
rather than stop you with your “darker” games.

Was there love there at all?
Maybe . . .
Why else would today be cursed with the rank reek of a great desire gone stale?
Like a ***** gone jobless for a week.
And it is not the stink coming off from me.

No one trusts a child
But don't children speak the most truth?
Children aren't liars
Aren't fuled by ambition with ruthlessness

If anyone should be trusted
Why not a child?
They're so simpleminded
And forthcoming in time

No one listens to children
As they beg for help and care
Lost in a world of thieving men
Where life is never fair

At night hear their screams
While we turn away
We're killing their dreams
Tomorrow's problems from today

We promise them the world
And give them the scraps of our troubles
So truth be told
We don't hear simply because
We don't give a **** about them