.
what devils can i get away with in words ?
like arranging mercury slinks              
to make a true thing    unbloated and blue
an honest note of mood
or  instead  floated finks of corpse              
vicious old swears                                
  with nasty rash of discrimination
hold still   it ain't pretty but              
         i can capture this picture
.

"I cannot go to bed,
it's 9 pm", I said.
Just one more time
the clock should chime,
for me to go to bed.

My mother came out,
with a horrible shout,
"you have to got bed,
it's too late", she said.
But I don't want to go to bed.

So happily, I stared
at the TV, and declared,
"I will never go to bed!"
Then my dad's face went scarlet red.
But still I need not go to bed.

"You must tidy up this whole mess!"
He said; eyes fixed at the peices of chess.
My instincts worked with a pop,
I ran, but I did not stop,
to go back to bed.

I love burnt marshmallows and my favorite color’s green.
I’ll say I’m very open, but my favorite game’s hide and seek.
I’m kind of bad with money-
ya know, I can always make more.
I’ll distract you with jokes if we dive
too deep into my lore.

I’ll remember your birthday, stress for months on the perfect gift.
I’ll be properly obsessed with you until
I feel the shift.
I am such a lover girl until the
loving feels too real-
giving someone the power to hurt me is a soul-crushing, humongous deal.

I will fight against it-
there’s no love without the risk.
But it will be a struggle, and no one deserves my ******* fits.
One day, someone will want them, raincoat and boots in tow:
“What’s a little rain in the grand scheme,
when at the end I get to love you though?”

dry as a butterfly   and legless as an atlas
buttressed by a mattress            
     the gap against the wall
to sleep   or  at least    
to practice

the slanting sun  outwits the bedroom               
                            carves in the morning knife
cavities balled into the mystery   a spent cartridge of night      
bidden away is the bask   of a coupling umbrella-ed          
(guilded by narcotic somnolence  and a few drinks)
now  each fearful  in face of the lover    
       one wondering etiquette
    for the ridding
     of the other