how much does it take to **** a man?
is it the curves of her body,
or the curves of her smile.

Every night,
If you'll look closely enough at the sky,
You could see the thousands of Iranian children silently,
Walking trough the minefield,
With plastic keys hanging from their necks
that were promised to bring them
to paradise,
When the mines will
**explode.

i had a dream last night, ive been remembering them again, ever since the woods. i couldnt feel my leg anymore, i couldnt feel it like i said would happen and i cried and cried and cried (i slept till 1pm) was i always this disconnected? did i always zone out in cold baths, tracing checkerboard tiles over  and over again? did i always want to die like this? i shouldnt have helped myself. i shouldve given up 2 summers ago, when i could still have been peaceful, when they could still put me in some metal casket with nothing in my veins or chest cavity, when they would have tied my mouth shut with one of those bread ties in my gums

stop it

i know you're
lying in bed
and i know that
before you fell asleep

you went through a
mental list of all
the people you love
and prayed for each one

and i know
that i was
somewhere there
in your liturgy

stop it

i mean
it's great that
you know what
you believe like that

but please
don't get me
mixed up
in it

i don't know
why but
the thought is
bothering me tonight.

i saw her Eyes from the across the concrete field, not blue like an ocean but blue like my porch steps after it rains, blue like the bathmat i See as i watch it from above water, swirling and spinning under clear film, blue like the dorothy dress i Saw in the church when i was small, blue like my skin when i am dead and blue like my veins when life is brought unto me again. blue like the glow from my house's edwardian windows when i Look at them at sunset, blue like the wind and the goddess and the dew; she Looked back