dancing hazily as he smokes
lazily, blue-lipped Turkish square;
cherry brighter than his love.
fiendishly palming in the dark;
superstition rules his life like
his favorite little white *** lush.
summer died like his bride in
November; consummation in progress.
angel sent by sunbeams and sugar cane;
siren sent silently from some Caribbean island
beckoning him from across the realm.
headshot, sawed-off, ethereal glow.
vows breathed fearfully as fists rained down.
her name's on the tip of his tongue,
but he's so far gone now his memory's grown
fuzzy, though surely he's not forgotten.
how could he forget his one true love?
the one he risked it all for, fought God for;
his most prized possession, his pin-up
queen found in pieces on the streets
of Paradise Valley just past Wyoming,
glittering just outside the *******.
rhinestones like diamonds decorated her flesh,
black eyes from a man who came and left,
tiger stripe bruises from the ones who
could never love her the way he could.
had he dreamt her? or was she real?
were her tears or her blood real?
****** had bonded their souls and as if
by the grace of God her spirit haunted him
spitefully; her apparition found him frightened
in his hide out in the desert and he knew
he had to settle the score, so he headed east
back to the scene of the crime, back to
the city it all began and he begged her
to let his soul rest as he had not let hers.
his girl, his princesa, his Bonnie, his jewel,
the one he had so shamelessly and brutally
left for dead on the side of the road in fresh snow,
laughed viciously at his fearful pleas and
reminded him of all the life she had missed,
all the innocence lost on a drunken whim
because he had no control over the demon
that made itself a bed in his heart or
the weakness he felt when he saw how broke
her heart was over a man who was anyone
but him; and in an instant he had known what to do,
promising her the world as he destroyed
what good she possessed until she was nothing
more than a cold body in the passenger's seat
of his slate grey beater. he knew he would
never be free from visions of her smiling and
singing 'i love you's as he took her life until he
took his. if there really is a God out there,
he's a cruel master, but so too is a lover who
goes rogue when his love's gone up in flames.

degenerate beauty queen
treasure from the dredge of the Earth
strung up like Christmas lights
white crystal **** aflame
hydrangeas cower from her gaze
pink ribbons stained with age
droop lonesome in soft noir locks
pulled loose from men along the way

she'll be lucky if she doesn't die young
photos on the television
gunned down in some gang's maze
or somewhere in the gutters she calls home
expensive death bought by scratch
she'll be lucky to make it to twenty three
cigarettes and xanax soothe her to sleep
dancing on a silver pole took her hazily

high school diploma left her trailer park bound
never felt love 'less it came from a bottle
kissed only by knuckles since she began
running from ambitions to become no one
just someone's baby mama left shattered
she smiles to the world, for anyone who can see
inside she's full of rage, i see the tear stains
mascara runs black from her bambi eyes

complacent at best, naïve at worst
****** never grew up, she just grew angrier
i pray for you and the person you've become
ring me when you find your head
ring me when you find your way home
there's nothing from you that i wanna take
no matter how insignificant or terrifying
i love you forever and always

Who Am I?
A question too romanticised
To have one answer;

Maybe I'm a butterfly,
Spreading my wings
And becoming a metaphor for creativity

Maybe I'm a spirit, a ghost,
Wandering and gliding around
This plane of existence for answers.

Maybe I'm a leaf,
Fallen from a tree.
I glide and glide and I am free!

Or maybe I'm just me.

I'm myself.
And sometimes I write words
And people like them.

I exist,
And sometimes I do things,
And other things happen after that.

Maybe I'm self doubtful,
Maybe I lack a certain narccism,
Maybe I'm missing my confidence.

But to be honest,
When you ask who I am,
I answer:

I am me.

i don't think of you anymore
my mind's too full of cotton
cigarettes and ligatures remind me
of all the things i'm not missing

when i become stardust
maybe then i will know
the veil will slip from my eyes
and i will see you for the beast
you've made yourself

we're sinking slowly
slipping into that lonely sea
transfixed by visions of a life
so many lightyears away
in lace and chiffon
where i bear you the gift of child
and you seek refuge
in another woman's kiss

we've lost it now, darling
it's spilled from your chalice
and it's stained my sallow cheeks
don't sing me faux praise
you know it's far too late

and i know you feel it too
the void's become too large
you can't navigate this one
your ship is far too worn
if you loved me at all, do tell me
what it is we could've had
if i'd have let you take me away
to a nearby or foreign land?

i love you more than heaven
but our time's running out too fast
we ought to say goodbye now
nothing good can ever last

i'm sorry

I used to have a little bird
Bernard was his name
Whenever I would call to him
Bernard always came

One day when I was cleaning
I left the window up a bit
Bernard up and flew away
The ungrateful little ****

I'm waiting for the world to turn,
For me to grow in another year,
My hair will get longer,
And my emotions will change,
Doing nothing while healing from surgery was so sublime,
But now I have to face the oncoming storm,
Of work and responsibilities that I hid from for so long,
Last year,
At this exact moment,
I was waiting for the same thing.

It makes me wonder,
Is this all that I will do?,
Wait and wait until I feel like I'm grown?,
I'm already 19,
Considered an adult by society,
Yet when I look at myself in the mirror,
I still feel like a child.

I guess I'm waiting for a moment that will never happen,
When the world sends me a sign,
A sign that will change my own self perspective,
So when I look in the mirror,
I can see an adult.

I am staring to feel that Salem sadness,
That I felt last year in the dorm,
I guess you can call it mental illness madness,
But it sure doesn't feel like the norm,
Lucy dacus says that she could **** him if I let her,
And Dan Barrett says no one will ever want me,
I don't understand the allure,
Of becoming who everyone wants me to be.
I got a tattoo at the end of last year,
A serial code for a replicant I love,
Sometimes I feel the same fear,
Illustrated in his face while holding a dove.
Bloodhail playing as I waste time,
In my new dorm,
Doing nothing while healing from surgery was so sublime,
But now I have to face the oncoming storm,
Of work and responsibilities that I hid from for so long,
Faces sweaty arms and legs what a glorious set of stairs this song makes,
I gained too much weight and no longer feel strong,
Guess I should have gone back to work and stopped indulging in things like cakes,
I'm trying not to eat that much anymore,
It isn't worth it when I feel too round and fat,
Just enough to sustain me and restore,
The energy that I spend doing this and that.
I no longer have hyperfixations on things I love,
it makes me feel so horribly empty,
I don't know how to fill my brain up with stories and men from above,
When it no longer brings me joy and won't tempt me,
Is this a part of growing up?,
Losing all the things you loved as a teenager?,
I draw a tarot card and I'll get the cups,
I can only sing in c major.
I guess I'm just starting to grow out of it all,
As scary as that sounds,
Will future me mourn for the current me,
As I mourn for the teenager that had created stories since he was born?