Clutching the cool, sharp blade
Hovering above my arm
I'm scared
Dipping the tip, slowly
Slicing my delicate skin
Dragging it across my arm
Making little tic marks
One for every wrong I've ever done
Broke his heart
Check
Betrayed my friend
Check
Wincing at the immediate pain of
Flowing plasma,
Dripping onto the floor
Quenching the wound
I want to just let it go
Let it flow
Out of me
Steadily dripping,
Always dripping

Call me what you want
Say I'm a *****, I'm worthless
You won't break my skin

when i gazed upon
your handsome profile, i was
blown by the beauty

How fitting, it must be
That Athena,
Goddess of Wisdom,
Was borne straight out
Of her father's head!
Conceived by mere thoughts
Conceived by the
Notion of thinking wisely
I am agape,
I am aghast
How could such a meathead
Like Zeus
Create such an intelligent goddess?
And the question that has
Plagued me for many years.....
Does she have a belly button?

How sweet it is
That we humans love to hold hands
Would it be my choice
To hold on to a lifeless
Sweaty appendage?
Not really.
At least,
Not until I held your hand
It was not lifeless
It was a living, breathing being
With a mind of its own
Trickling its way up my side
Caressing my face
And slapping me,
Hard
So hard,
It left a print for me
To remember you by
So I guess your brain
Was behind the hand
After all

today's my birthday,
but i don't want presents
today's my birthday,
but i don't want wishes
today's my birthday,
but i don't want to be older
today's my birthday,
but i don't want a party
today's my birthday,
but i already have everything i want

they told me that my mom loved birthdays
they told me she'd stay up all night
baking cakes and cookies and pies
they told me she planned parties months in advance
they told me she loved to sing happy birthday
and that she had perfect pitch too

they told me she made me her
famous almond dream cake
for my first birthday
smothered in coconut frosting
with one little palm tree
precariously placed on top

they told me that she
learned to knit
just for me
to make me a soft blanket
adorned with the words,
my little angel, cara

today's my birthday,
but i don't want it to be

today's my birthday,
but i don't want to remember my mother

blood
lots of it
shooting down
from the sky
the blood
of brothers
of neighbors
of two sides
pitted against
one another
so much blood
i think i just
might drown
in all of the
sticky
warm
crimson
fluid
gushing from
every orifice
mixing
in a whirl
of DNA
who knows why
maybe it was because
they were
so much closer
it could have been
new technology
or old medicine
but what i do know is
that those years
caused more than
just bloodshed
they ripped
our land
to shreds
and from the
blood-soaked soil
flowers bloomed
and everything was
normal again
except for the fact
that each and every
flower
grew to be
a heavy blood-red
to remind us
of the people
we ravaged
so i guess
it really wasn't
okay
after all