I left some dead fruit
  By the window ledge
In the hopes fruitflies
Would sprout and break free

  their torrid wings from the grapevine roots.

Instead, all I got was a smelly room

And grapes that hissed dissapointedly
As they crackled inward in the background
(rotting flesh now too heavy
to carry on stiffupperlipped).

How sunny it is outside. How much

  Sunnier the weatherman says it'll be
tomorrow. Atleast, I think with my last thought
Of the day,

Atleast I'll remember to get fresh fruit tomorrow.

Comatosed with open gaze insinuating
Morphine daydreams,
With bristling hairs along arms
Before she had the chance to shave
and the folicles deactivated;
It is her womb she has devoted
For the public eye;
How it slowly rots, from incarnadine
-as the historical pictures aside her show-
To it's current viridian swelter;
Like an ugly robust bruise too tough to die.

Rupturing outward a torridness
Of legs and crooked fingers stuck to half-grip,
Scanning southly one notes globules of goosebumps
Haunting up her thighs,
Pricking cloudward and shivering implying that,atleast,
For a second whilst living she was aware of this—
Her impending fate.

Red,red,red lips
bud close to form a cute,poppish image,
Honouring those photographers who come and go—
Her tiny hands are posited to corner her tiny *******
As not to stir any further controversy.
The lady in the jar awaits the usuals,while blind
to her own doing so,

Mind overrun and on display like a faulty calculator
Via that dull, happy, gaze.

She smells up the room of exquisite perfume and
Quixotic trees and fields and roads and too much more to mention...

The fee these stranger's would scavage from their pockets
Just to be awarded a chance to touch
The fair lady’s skin and determine a better verdict
As to whether or not she meant all that much to the world
at all.

Allow yourself to become a charcter.

If she's easy  just like

     How she was easy

     Then what does that make you?

Your face melts in the fog
A colorless scene
Our white shadows speaking to us as if we are alone
The tree master has no where to be
Mid day sitting by it self
A branch wanting to be more
Left by the leaf that would never return
Ahhhhhh
Why must all company leave
Mother nature is no comforter
She is no mother
A punished daughter weeps in the garden
Why must you be so cruel

Japanese frothy ice coffee in the summer
Watching the world continue to burn
As the spaces 'tween the paper disinter
and I continue to reap the ideals i sowed

Growing cold to the bones, lungs ache
As my lips wisp a chilly whisper thin as
Phone wire and defeated but riding still tall
Came way too far to give out like cheap cigars

I had to pretend to be so many different people
To realise why and where exactly i didn't fit in;

Optimism keeps me through til the night,
When morning spreads my chest it slits my heart like a knife
But in my soul I can feel the guiding gaze
Of my grandmother, her memories embedded to remind me of

A constant reason to always want to stay alive.

I've got limited time and truthfully I fear I'll never live it
The way i should be,

But by the end of this season I will wear the welts of
My lessons, I will try better to be

Who I should be