childlike fascination
mystery obsession
...
terrarium in a cranium
barefoot expedition
...
valley sea
mushroom haven
...
fairy stars between trees
full jar

My father gave me the
Last of his wine.
Thus leaving the rest of that
Habit behind.
His eyes, once blue like skies
Over sea,
Were grey with regret when
He gave it to me.
The older you grow, the
Better it sits,
The bitterness clouding both
Wisdom and wits.
I'm glad he won't know
How well I understand
How much the bottle can
Steal from a man.
If anything's off in your
Body or soul,
If angry or lonely or
Not feeling whole,
The first things to toss so your
Boat doesn't sink,
Are the barrels and bottles marked:
Too Much to Drink.

Well my recipe is simple
Take the words offtimes read
Ofttimes read but never heard
Sprinkle then with words of love
Bake until light on bottom
Brown above
But the recipe has a bitter taste
For the words of love
Hide a bitter hate
Words are all we have to use
But words are often
Misunderstood, abused

I have those moments
When all I want to do is
Read your words
Hear your voice
Hold you close
And feel your warmth..

And I have those moments
When all I want to do is
Finally drown
In this ocean
Of endless sadness
And just slip into gray..

Right now
I feel both
And I need you here
To lie to me and say
Everything is ok
And you're going to stay..

Amongst the debris, the ash, the embers, lies the very foundation of who we are apart and the inferno we are together.

Girls like me are so hot
We are the sun burning into oblivion
Causing fires in the sky of your sheets
We're ghosts with beating hearts
Our minds concrete fires,
Wordless books, eroding cliffs.
All the things you started but could never finish.

Girls like me, we're unattainable.
You can only pretend you had us.
If only for a second before we disappear.
Moving like quicksand through your fingers.
Leaving you grasping at the air for nothing.
You'll wonder if your imagination
Struck cruel again.

Our lips won't offer you salvation.
You won't find peace in our bodies.
We kiss with scarred knuckles
We do not love gently, if we love at all.
You can hold us tightly but we won't break
Girls like me are made of marble;
Not even fire can **** us.

Us hurricane girls are the devils delight.
We consume souls with delicate fingers.
Nails red and perfectly manicured to a point.
Our lips plush; the taste of cherry and blood.
We paint our desires on our fingertips
Leaving traces of them on everything we touch
We're disasters but we're oh so beautiful