WHY THE **** WOULD YOU PROMISE TO BE MY ROCK IF YOU WERE SO UNSURE OF WHAT YOU WANTED. WHY THE **** WOULD YOU GIVE A BROKEN GIRL YOUR WORD IF YOU’RE ALREADY BROKEN YOURSELF. MAYBE BECAUSE YOU'VE ALWAYS HAD THE LUXURY OF HAVING SOMEONE PICK UP THE ******* PIECES FOR YOU. BUT THE BAND AIDS ARE LOSING THEIR STICK AND I’M RUNNING OUT OF PATIENCE SO IF WE’RE JUST AN AVALANCHE THEN TAKE ME WITH YOU AND MAYBE AT THE BOTTOM OF THIS MOUNTAIN YOU’LL MAKE UP YOUR MIND AND WE CAN PUT BACK THE PIECES TOGETHER.

I may be a white rose,
but honey we have shadows too.

Someone please give me a way
A magic solution
To make this searing pain go away
I know I rhyme
But isn't that manipulation
Just of words and time
I want to find a way
To twist and burn
Phrases and sounds but
Even with all the seconds
Hours, days, months
Only my heart can emote
My face can try
My tears can fall
I can't write
I can't feel anything
Other than what you wanted
I was more than enough
I only wish I saw through your bluff
Better than me you say?
"I'm with her so I can have you"
"I promise some day I'll love you too"
"You make me feel things"
But...
You're not old enough
Pretty enough
Small enough
I was adequate all along
It was your soul that needed fixed
Not mine
I hope she's nothing you wanted
Because she will never be me
I hope you burn in hell
Maybe then you'll understand
You can't ruin people
And still look in a mirror
Without the cracks of you
Of who you really are
Seeping through

You are the smoke in my lungs
The whiskey in my glass
A full pack of cigarettes
And a half empty bottle of wine
You are all the things that I love
That are destined to **** me
*I want to taste you

This must be happiness.
So much more than enough
Food and drink.

This must be bliss.
Sun setting over silent seas,
Warm arm against my

Back as she puts her lips on
My shoulder, exhales a
Whispered I Love You, then

Moves along. Windows to beauty.
Both
Ways.

Spoiled with having you
Within my reach,
I keep nearly catching
The dark figure
Of your ghost in the corner of
My eye.

Seeing myself in the mirror,
You are shower-naked
Before me,
Looking back from glass; inviting.

Don't be sweet. Not gentle.
My bones were built for battle.

Empty air where warmth
Was days ago; now
A vacuum the size and shape
Of love and lust responded to.

I lean my face on sofa roughness
Where black silk strands
Of hair would tickle it.
Your fingers are not here to
Search; find, utilize the Access
All Areas pass of

The black ceramic ring
You wear.
Neither is your mouth to tell me

To shut the hell up and
Lean back into the
Winter night that blushes
And turns away smiling.

Hours like aeons.
Decade seconds.
Yearning is not boring,
Yet your absence is the opposite
Of fun.
All I have are memories, and
Tomorrow.

Thank the gods I have tomorrow.
Thank the gods, we have
Tomorrow.

I'll dream then too.
Then open my eyes and mouth,
And thank out loud.

*"Real."

Sub-zero city night.
Willows by the window facing
The nearby railroad tracks
Reflect little bolts of lightning

With their multitudes of
White, white crystal flowers,
As a train passes noiselessly by,
Leaving the children

Playing in the shoveled
Piles of
Snow, and us,
Bewildered.

I'm scared of my imagination.

I hear, see and feel things I shouldn't.
It scares me.

You hear barking, I hear howling.
You hear chair scraping the ground, I hear screaming.
You hear snoring, I hear wailing.
You hear in between radio stations, I hear cackling.
You hear sliding, I hear snakes.
You hear buzzing, I hear a bomb ticking.
You hear church bells, I hear the call for death.
You hear chopping food, I hear execution.
You hear the waves, I hear the drowning of the unknown.

I can't stay in the dark,
It's what I imagine I fear for.
My heart runs for it's life,
But it's stuck in the same cage.
And it's walls are scraped,
With tally of the times it will never get out.

You hear a tap, I hear drowning.
And I am flowing with it. In it.

Shake my head away from the dreams?
It's not as easy as you think.
When they taunt you,
While you sleep,
You dream,
You eat,
Scream.
I do.

It's just a nightmare...
- No it's not.
It's real;
It's my imagination.

Telling me things it shouldn't,
Making me feel things I shouldn't.

The imagery is too much, I cannot see;
Blind.

The wails, howls and screams are getting louder;
Deaf.

I’ve run out of voice,
To speak, to express, to call for help;
Dumb.

They say your imagination cannot hurt you,
Yet I’m screaming, running away from it.
But I can't – it's stuck with me, 'till I die.
Die from the fear of myself?
I will.

Exists silhouettes
Bits of her motifs
Scattered amongst their fields
Like metaphors and similes
Pleasantly dancing,
The wind as her lead and yet
The wind is her own

Je vous vois!
Je vous vois!

I'm never too far for her to reach
For I will be where she is.
In wildflowers.
Meditate.