I'm not cut out for this life of production,
A baby calf is taken from his mommy,
Seconds after birth,
Guiding his face,
Teaching him the art of suction,
Nothing's real,
Platex,

You judge the girl,
With fake *****,
But make fun of the ones that have none,
And you wonder why,
There's platex in the brains of the younger generation,
Pleasing people is the prize,
You don't know how to love yourself,
But you so whole heartedly,
Wish you could melt the platex,
That hold together the lies.

I wander if,    
             When he,
                    Fell,
                        Did he scream,
                              Did he yell,
                                     Was he heart broken,
                                               D
                                                I
                                               D
                                           Tears fall
                                                 D
                                                    O
                                                       W
                                                           N
                                                              His cheeks,
                                               When his own father,
                                                        Banished him,
                                                            To Hell,
                   GOD DO YOU MISS HIM? ARE YOU SO SICK INSIDE THAT THE ANGEL YOU CREATED IS CAPABLE OF SUCH HORROR.

when your screams were loud enough to shake my happiness off the walls,
when your fist raised more than the hairs on my neck,
when your eyes became empty as the walls that you shook, when your hands were so rough I wondered if they had ever held me at all,
when my room was involuted, when my soul shrunk back in on itself, I moved on

She said, I'm sure he molested his daughter. I slept on the couch, and heard all the laughter. Cried as his hand slipped down my shirt. She said, I'm sure he protected his daughter. Sitting in therapy turning pages, praying for paper cuts. She said, I'm sure he couldn't save his daughter.

This morning in the shower,
My tears hotter than the water,
Beating on my bare back,
Sliding down my legs,
To form pools at my feet,
I miss you,
This afternoon in the shower,
Leaning against the cold wall,
Finding anything to keep me stable,
Everything a blur, I'm getting swept away,
I miss you,
After work in the shower,
Sobs racked my body,
I can't keep it in anymore,
I smashed my fist into the tiles,
All it did was echo,
Back into my brain,
To bury itself deeper,
So Id never forget,
FOR THE FOURTH TIME TODAY IN THE SHOWER, I CRIED AND THE TEARS ROLLED,THE DIZINESS CAME BACK TEN TIMES WORSE,  MY MOURNING COULD BE HEARD FROM DOWN THE HALL, MY FIST BRUISED AND ******, BUT THE FOURTH TIME I SCRUBBED, I SCRAPED EVERY FOUL WORD OFF MY BODY, EVERY SCARR AND EVERY EMPTY APOLOGY DOWN THE DRAIN, I SCREAMED UNTIL GOD PUT HEADPHONES IN, THATS WHAT HE USUALLY DOES WHEN IM CRYING, THE FOURTH TIME MAYBE NOT THE LAST TIME,

Tonight I wanted to die,
You'll never know,
The shower will never forget,
I cried my sadness into the foundation of its very existence,
They still say,
It sounds like weeping,
When the waters running.

My little sister said funerals are grey, marked with decay. She's only five, she said she hears me when I'm sleeping. About the type of shaving cream I use, an overdosed amount. To impress myself, im going on a double date. Id rather not show up..

Get it right or get out of here.

Should I go back & clean the salvia from your shot glasses. Keep the lined up, like the lines of strands on words of platonic sapling thoughts. The drifter & the gypsy.   You mean nothing but misery. I don't have time for poetry. It's there like an old bar stool.

Heyo mayo, catch ya to be able too see you soon enough for the next few years ago when he was not immediately available from my house and my dad just called me a little bit more than one million people in the world to see my mom and I don't think that I have a great way of saying that it was the best of luck with your life and death in a statement issued by the end of the day before I go to sleep now goodnight everyone else in my head.

Writing is unpacking, it’s unloading the freeloaders opinions & wiping slates clean.
Writing is packing, it’s loading up the freeloaders opinions & keeping score.

A narcissistic paradise, ink, pencil, pen, choose your weapon.

Remove the shackles from your wrists,
The chains around your ankles,
The weight off your back,
All of this because ,
I lack,
Intelligence,
Capability,
Motherly instincts,
Cleanliness,
Skinny,
I LACK THE THE DESIRE TO KNEEL DOWN AT YOUR FEET AS YOU WHIP ME WITH ALL YOUR WORDS CRAWLING AWAY HELPLESS AND MORE BROKEN THAN THE LAST TIME. PLEASE JUST TELL ME HOW MUCH MORE WORTHLESS I AM THAN YESTERDAY. WRITE IT IN FINE INK ACROSS MY SOUL. ITS BECAUSE I LACK. I LACK. I LACK. I WAS JUST AN ACCIDENT. AN UNCALLED FOR MISTAKE. IM NO JESUS BUT PLEASE HANG ME ON YOUR CROSS FOR ALL YOUR SINS. TELL ME HOW ITS FOR THE BEST. THE SCARS ON MY FEET & CHEST WERE ALL ACCIDENTS LIKE MYSELF. ITS SELFISH TO CRY BECAUSE NO ONE WILL HELP. JUST STARE AT YOUR REFLECTION YOU UNCANNY GIRL. YOU ARE NOTHING OF ME AND ALL OF HIM ALL OF HIS DEMONS.

I was conceived in a drug induced hellish rage, because life ******. Not out of love or passion. I'll believe this until the end of my time.


PLEASE LOOK AT ME, LOOK ME IN MY EYES AND TELL ME ALL MY PAINS GONE WITH YOUR WORDS TELL ME. YOU CANT CAUSE YOULL BE LYING. GOD WHERE ARE YOU IS THIS LIFE THE THORN IN MY SIDE KEEP ME SO HUMBLE I CANT EVEN SPEAK. WHERE ARE YOU GOD I HEAR YOU TALKING WHY CANT YOU JUST SPEAK.

All night long I hear you picking up pebbles,
******* the micro-organisms off it,
You don't have teeth to eat the good stuff,
Soft patters put me to sleep,
Something else alive in this room,
Not just me,
With a heart beat,
& that's so comforting,
I don't need a man to protect me,
Just a gold fish named Larry,
Who doesn't know much,
Other than the inside out of his tank & tiki hutch,
I told my mom I had replaced you with a fish,
But each time I hear a pebble drop,
It reminds me of your paw prints,
Skimming over the top,
I miss you.

ITS NOT WHO LOVES YOU, THAT DEFINES WHO YOU ARE. ITS WHAT YOU LOVE THAT DEFINES YOU. YOU DONT NEED ANYONES APPROVAL. LOVE YOURSELF COMPLELTLY AND WHOLLY. FALL FOR YOURSELF HARD. YOU ARENT MEANT TO BE PERFECT FIND THE BEAUTY IN YOUR FLAWS AND THE PEOPLE AROUND YOU. LIVE FOR TODAY NOT TOMORROW OR THE PERSON BESIDE YOU. LIVE BECAUSE YOU HAVE REASON, YOURE BREATHING YOUR HEART IS BEATING. THERE IS HOPE FOR THE OUTCAST THERE IS A VOICE FOR THE VOICELESS THERE IS A HOME FOR THE HOMELESS THERE IS A BURNING FIERY LOVE FOR THOSE WHO DO NOT KNOW IT. DO NOT BE LET DOWN BY OTHER HUMANS BECAUSE HUMANS FAIL JUST LIKE YOU WILL. BUT THERES BEAUTY IN IT ALL, AND ITS CALLED GRACE.

The tub is cloudy with blood, awapuhi ginger & mud. In a week from now you'll count the scabs & yellow tinted bruises.

I keep a drug addict, in the attic, in case I ever get bored. He tells me sweet story's, of all his pending glorys, we connect the dots with the track marks going up his arms. Ive since moved away, I wonder if he stayed. Sits in the dusty boxes, where we use to play.

I'm not sure, nor am I sick. My heart aches though, these days. When I push open the front door, and the house is completely empty. Yet so full of breathing chests. But mine is hallow, and the vibrations and affiliations are that of a dog. Hooked on a fence, the chain dangling down it's neck. As it snaps the sky between its slobbering jaws. I wish the sky snapped me up, took me away to a place where people looked up when you walked past. It's not about being noticed, it's about being loved...

Chips & dip, with a side of hip swaying seductive side dish. Still warm from the aftermath. My beds so full of your scent, it's been too long since I've seen your smile. Almost a month, pictures can't capture that moment.

Why do cuss words come out,
Unrighteously in pain,
Our brain,
Triggering the thoughts...or emotions.
Dislocating your leg, chapped lips
broken heart.
Dead Sea ****** mask,
Keep the positive vibes flowing,
Over this cup I refuse to drink of,
This sorrow that holds on so strongly,
I'm an ant at a picnic of life,
Wasn't invited, wasn't invited, wasn't invited.

We were a piano, you are the keys, I am the strings, or perhaps I am the peddles beneath your feet, we play beautifully when we're alone.

All the right notes, fingertips and tired sighs.
We make love, we make poetry, we make music.
Your tired back, aching over the keys. There's a violin somewhere in the back ground. But all I can hear is you. Everything is louder in this empty hallway, empty home. You echo...& return to me.

Im not the marrying type.

Falling asleep to passing headlights, sangria in my mind. Your head in my lap, your fingers laced in mine. Another mans hoodie, propped against my head. His scent put me to bed not you. I wish beyond the sound of squealing tires, and back road drives. I fell asleep too soon.

Pray the gray away he said fur coats and bronze feathered head bands long ciggerates and bed pans maids glamorous, you'd be perfect there, a princess of the 20's. Velvet sheets, hands on your knees, arched back off the bed, different positions, I'll live to please, I'll kiss you from the tip top all the way down to your feet, you're beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

The sound of the filtered water, falling into the tank. Sends my heart into over drive. A unwanted alarm clock, panic attack poised over nothingness. I feel like a fool once I realize, it's not an ocean, lake or stream just a little tank that will never turn green. Algae free, my worse nightmare.

This place as lost it's vibe, mediocre poets at best. Don't tell me what I want to hear, rip the words out from my chest. I'm still sore from your absence.

The whole world had a crush on her, so what were you to do?

You’d trot up to me like an aged horse
our pasture matted down by our footprints
I’d ask you the same advice I always do
You don’t reply, that’s never the issue

They get jealous and insecure, but you’re nothing more than an old friend

Cut jeans into shorts, a bra for a top, & *** kickers for feet. Can't wait for tonight.

If you really knew me,
You'd know I crave to go home,
The Dead Sea calls my name everynight,
My toes sunk into it's heaing waters,
You'd know I drink a Mocha Coconut frappe every other day, with one Reese cup,
So I don't lose my soul,
I've read Iron Fey for a record of 40 times not counting the first time,
Tom Petty is my spirit animal
I'm never in one place,
And I'll never stay,
You can't have me

They say you can tell a lot about a woman, by the way she takes her clothes off.

Battling depression is;
Clean fingernails
Under fresh pillow-cased beds
When you forget to eat
But in the good way
Paying bills
On time
For everything
Being able to be late just once
Showering always
Scrubbing
Not crying.

God did me *****,
When he put you there & me here,
And 13,000 miles between.

4:09 am and I'm not sleeping. Wide awake, wrists open but not quite bleeding. Mind ****** by man vs nature. A young child battles against wits & wagers. I fall in between, because neither of us are sleeping.

Sometimes I put myself out of perspective, out of the ocasion. I stare down at my reflection, the impression i will leave to people. A crazy suicidal teen that couldn't bare the strength, or would they understand I never meant to leave this way. That the whole world was full of adventures, & scenic routes I would've taken. Dandelions, sun flowers, forget me nots,
Kiss me on the forehead tell me it's alright.
And when I go to meet God I'll ask him if your house can be next to mine this time. I'm sure there's room for two...

We make Angels all night long,
And soft hallelujahs between the sheets,
Bare legs & cold feet,
In the center of the universe we meet,
Our finger prints the same,
I know you in the holiest ways,
Your body etched in my brain...

What kind of company do you keep,
Beneath the sheets,
We make flowers & eat raspberries
To the sound of oceans in your violin,
I picture *** as an orchestra,
Slightly off key,
The dial in your pupils calling my name,
Trembling treble,
Allegro,
Presto,
I'll never know why we make such harmonys,
Between the sheets,
Nothing to do with love,
Just passion.

Front seat drivers talk ****,
Cause they're hip,
They talk in hushed voices but their opinions are loud.
I got no respect for you,
You make my head hurt,

I scrubbed and scrubbed until my pores became smooth, until my flesh burned with regret. Until I felt my pores become shallow. And the oil ran off like an anointing, a closed flask. Waiting for grace to keep my heart at bay. Yet I'm still dying three days later. Wrapped in the same linen I was buried in. Like an anointing, you pressed your hand to my head. Whispered fire. Now I'm gone.

The girl with volcano eyes,
And a lions mane,
Never quite fit in,
I guess she's to blame,
Because she's got freckles on her nose,
A few broken toes,
On her left foot of course,
And she doesn't sit straight enough,
She's smiling a lot,
But never feels it,
So they say she's insincere,
But she carries twice her weight in responsibility,
For you,
A stranger,
She's got short legs,
A long curvy torso,
That bleeds into wide hips,
She has larger calves,
And tiny ankles,
Fat fingers,
And small hands,
Perfect ears,
But too large a nose,
They say her cheek bones are so high,
Her bottom lip too plump,
But her personality,
Extrodinary

I want nothing more than to be the half hearted scribbles, on the right hand of your math work sheet. The box of cheese its, you keep behind the passenger seat. You'd eat them after to school on your way to work. I wonder if I ever crossed your mind, on those busy back roads.
           *I wouldn't want you to crash

the earth wrapped me in her green grape leafs, gave me nectarines for eyes, and a lightning bolt for lips,
Implanted smooth river rocks for hips,
Drift wood for thighs, and every seed known to man kind for a smile,
We are made of nature.

And God asked me if I could ask myself something. I think all he wanted was honesty, when he found me lying there. Across a textiled comversation about darts & Kings. We played a couple rounds, & got drunk on jealousy. My God is a jealous God. Jealous of himself. Because he is us & I am not me. I left my door open for the moths to climb to my ceiling fan.

Depression man, she’ll get ya if ya let her

Slowly rolling, folding fabric,
Shifting, guiding off the body,
Nervous laughter,
Lip bites,
Inhale,
Exhale,
Gently not too much she says,
My hair fanned across the bed,
A lions mane,
In all its glory,
My eyes roll up to the ceiling,
The part were the blue paint,
Contrasts the white,
Adrenaline kicks in,
When the needle hits the skin,
Ink to flesh,
The most intimate mesh,
My lifestyle,
Under **** tattoo,
To life,
I said,
To life,
She said,

I watched the cow jump over the moon,
Contemplating,
Laying in the middle of the road,
Suicidal hobo,
I can hear your screaming,
From a mile away,
Static from here to there,
Everywhere inside,
My brain,
Has died,
My heart no more,
Everything fading,
Champagne ****** scene galore,
Hit a *** hole,
Right over top my body,
Id apologize,
For the damage emotionally & mentally,
You did a good deed,
How else could I leave?
I rope or a gun,
Too predictable not fun,
Everything to Hades.

I felt the child grow between the cracks of trauma. Filling in the gaps, sweeping out the excess. Womb full of life when only death was promised to me. I watched winter come and go, and with it you went. I felt the hunger grow between the cracks of trauma. Filling in the gaps, sweeping out the excess.

From x to y to z
How are your planets aligned,
Inside your mind,

You did great at ******* fate,
& leaving me,

Like the pores in my skin,
You take in the bad,
15 seconds surface contact,

Like loving Peter Pan,
& all of his lost boys,
I think I'll give you a kiss...

IM SICK AND TIRED OF THINKING OF YOU FATHER ITS 1:52 AM ON 2015 ANOTHER YEAR OF SELFHATRED AND LONGING FOR SOMEONE WHO WILL NEVER BE THERE FOR ME I HATE FATHERS DAY AND I HATE FATHERS AND I HATE PEOPLE WHO JUST LET YOU DOWN IM TIRED OF THROWING MYSELF INTO A RAGING FIRE OF MY THOUGHTS EVERYNIGHT KNOWING THAT ILL BE BURNED AND THE SCARRS THEY WONT FADE AWAY BECAUSE FATHER THESE ARE MORE THAN JUST WORDS THIS IS A PROMISE THAT THE DAY I HEAR YOURE DEAD I WONT CRY I WONT FEEL ANYTHING JUST LIKE YOU FATHER I WANT TO DROWND MYSELF IN ***** AND ALCHOL AND FORGET WHAT BREATHING IS BUT I KNOW WHAT DRINKING DOES IT MESSES WITH YOUR MIND AND YOU SLIP UP AND YOU CREATE THIS LIVING FORM OF LIFE THAT WAS JUST AN ACCIDENT JUST AN ACCIDENT I DONT EVER WANT TO BE YOU BUT IF IM NOT WHO AM I...NO ONE BECAUSE WHEN GOD CREATED HUMANS AND HE GAVE THEM THIS WONDERFUL GIFT OF INTIMACY HE FORGOT THAT MEN ARE SO NUMB TO EVERYTHING THAT INTIMACY IS AS IMPORTANT AS THE BEER CAP CLATTERING TO THE FLOOR TO JOIN THE OTHERS AT YOUR FEET AND THATS WHERE YOULL FIND ME FATHER ALONG WITH THE REST YOULL NEVER KNOW YOULL NEVER KNOW

Clouded thoughts, like Cycloped clams. Shriveled up, beneath the sand. Wash away, gasp. Wash away, gasp.

With a few drinks in my veins,
The world blurred together,
I woke up with bruises,
On collar bones and laid next to excuses,
As to why I had wanted "it",
I couldn't remember,
With a few drinks in my veins,
I stayed asleep next to some excuses,
I couldn't lift my head.

I wish I could divorce you from my life,
You ache,
You splinter,
You cut,
You bruise,
You orange juice after toothpaste mouthwash,
I hate you