I feel like I need to spill my feelings
into some other coffee.

Why am I always in pain?
I leave a stain on the world I'm in
A stain of red so bright and bold
It might just block out this heart of gold

When did I become so broken?
So numb and insecure
I guess when my soul was shattered
By one I thought I could trust the most

How was I supposed to know
You were so cruel and mean
What was I to do
But find someone to be

Someone who thought they couldn't be
At par with all the rest
Someone whose life meant nothing more
Than one simple passed test

Someone who could love the broken
The bruised and insecure
But one who could not be loved
By those he holds so dear

So take this gift I give
A thought in a small story
I feel that's more than you deserve
For making me so gory

And for my battered broken heart
Still pumping flakes of gold
Remember all the good in people
Don't stop until you're old

So old you can not even talk
So old you can not think
And even then please don't forget
This worlds' pure heart of gold

She settles in your heart
like paint
in the fine lines of
your shirt
never fully-able
to wash her out

                  

                    (the stains: a comforting reminder of what was once there)

You know how ugly we make
our beautiful dress feel because of
a droplet of stain on it at a party.

Do we have to do the same to ourselves or others?

A dozen whitened lilies,
Choked in renaissance jewels,

Each cut gripping the stalks
and tugging the leather lips.

They stain like daffodils.

And though grand,
Their speckled folds ooze death itself,
Like a beggar with heightened pride.

The string of scarlet tenses
and the stalks smothered,
each head refused nourishment,

They wither.

she's a
woman of
entirely tattooed
*** that
she waxes
in bed
on their
narrowly white
sheets only
this show  
with zest
which virtue
she abstain
a reactionary
mood in
saxophone to
proceed clarity