i hate myself/
and thats why/
im not living inside of my body/
im living inside my brain/
my heart is cold and hard because/
you never touch me with kindness/
you always hold my fragile body with hostility/
my weak body drapes pathetically over your arm/
i melt/
you always charm me and thats why/
i’m crying/
you lied to me/
im stuck wondering who killed me only to find that/
im looking in a mirror/
covered in blood/

Paint to paper,
From a beating heart;
Bleeds like old acrylic
Dreams on the back
Of syncopated medium
As emotions
Pour uncontrollably
Because you never
Knew how to not
Feel so much.

Since I already knew
I'd die of a broken heart
I made preperations
treating my death like art

Stop worrying
I took care of everything
the guests and the burying
even ordered flowers in early spring

I know some things about dirt
I shed my feathers many times just like a bird

Daring
Always daring
never preparing
for the fall
I fly
bold with a certain confidence
but so very shy
hold a truth to obedience
when the voice tells me to abide
holding evidence of bloodlust at night

Maybe not a bird then
but a bat when
feeling a strong hunger
for your crimson liquor
in the dark I reach out to my monger
won't you be my cherry picker
I'll draw the night out and make the darkness stay longer
I'll bite you and make your blood run thicker

Yes
See me still hiding a diffidence
under this bold confidence
But I'm not about pretense
bird and bat, all the same
I feel so very tense
as it seems either I can tame
Though I don't need defense
and as you will see, I got no shame