Words are like recycled toilet roll,
there is always a lingering repetition
of what was on there before.

Wipe it away from its originality.
covert it from what was before just diverse,
White washed but echo's linger as though there.

Pre-owned in a formatted outlived form,
that which was meant as before but unblemished.
Smell its clean, but a hint of what a was there lingers.

What do you see when my blood
leaks on the floor as your words
puncture my lips as blood weeps.

But you don't you just linger in laughter,
covering the wounds that you hide inside.
But you play the part of stronger thought.  

I am a window that you have thrown so
many bricks through till  have shattered
under your fists and lingering words.

You don't reflect on what you graduated
from victim to bearer of misfortune.
I am your angered release, tears falling on fists.

Running like a sprinter that is static never
moving further than what your lingering
palms around my throat hold and silence.

Till that moment that I think is this the season
of frozen torment, where I seem to be lingering
in that fist repeated on my wishful face.

I thought I was weak, not worth the lingering
eyes of those around me. do you no the last
thoughts of suicide. **"Why me, Why me.

I killed my own thoughts
             to numb the torment.
Burying them in my field of dreams
             they resurrected and my
Night became nightmares of dead reflections.

Do you know that the stars above
hang on a single strand of imagination?

And with every idea that falls from
the minds of innocence brightens there glow.

When we wish upon a star hanging before our
eyes, its a star that only burns bright for your sight.

The stars hang on the imaginations of all that wish
to see beyond ourselves looking in to the night.

The raindrops weren't all the same,
And somedays I wished they were.

The raindrops came in all sizes,
And somedays I wished it didn't rain.

The raindrops came,
And somedays that's all I wanted.

funny how
a year ago tonight
we danced
to summer wind
and outside songs,
looked at clouded
navy skies and pretended
there were stars.

how young we were,
that summer.
lived and loved
with firey hearts
and wet lips,
shadows holding hands
under street lamps
and fluorescent walmart lights.

fell for you like a stumble
off a cliff and when I
read the freckles across your face
by the light of the moon
and we argued over the existence of
aliens,
               look, they're right there

soco amaretto lime,
the anthem of our night time
wanderings through the streets
where we grew up,
tripped over my words
like the curb I couldn't see
in the dark, never been out
this late before.

same time next week?

Scarecrows dance in violet sun rays
in time best broken over my wrists

I steal magic from chalk bones on the sidewalk
and learn to read where children left their roots to become fossils

Clouds sinking into my skin as rainwater floods
my blood and turns my steady heart stream into livid rapids

Fate tapped on my window at 2a.m. last night
and informed me that I still am a poet and I still write to injure gods

Jealous frost infested the soil and trailed kisses of death on earth's cheek
but oh how pretty envy sparkles in hues of first light

But as I beckon stars to lean from their thrones in heaven,
I have realized that it's useless to continue watering a dead flower.