Here, where the lonely hooting owl
Sends forth his midnight moans,
Fierce wolves shall o’er my carcase growl,
Or buzzards pick my bones.
No fellow-man shall learn my fate,
Or where my ashes lie;
Unless by beasts drawn round their bait,
Or by the ravens’ cry.
Yes! I’ve resolved the deed to do,
And this the place to do it:
This heart I’ll rush a dagger through,
Though I in hell should rue it!
Hell! What is hell to one like me
Who pleasures never know;
By friends consigned to misery,
By hope deserted too?
To ease me of this power to think,
That through my ***** raves,
I’ll headlong leap from hell’s high brink,
And wallow in its waves.
Though devils yell, and burning chains
May waken long regret;
Their frightful screams, and piercing pains,
Will help me to forget.
Yes! I’m prepared, through endless night,
To take that fiery berth!
Think not with tales of hell to fright
Me, who am ****’d on earth!
Sweet steel! come forth from our your sheath,
And glist’ning, speak your powers;
Rip up the organs of my breath,
And draw my blood in showers!
I strike! It quivers in that heart
Which drives me to this end;
I draw and kiss the ****** dart,
My last—my only friend!

I want to go to New York City with you
And stand hand in hand in Times Square
It sounds like it would be nice
To be blinded by the lights
But I suppose that whispering clumsy words would become tiresome
The hum in the air is not the lazy bliss of summer
It is the impatient growl of taxis
And we would not just be surrounded by lovers melting into each other’s arms
But also by people whose mothers have just died
Diners at midnight always seemed romantic
With my arm stretched across the table so I could entwine my fingers with yours
But it is important to remember that the lights in cheap diners always flicker
And the bags under the waitresses’ eyes will remind us of reality every time we ask for another refill
And yes, I know what drinking alone will do
And still, I’ll stick to what I know

He bites his lips, the shape of ***,
and creases his  brow.
A musty breeze from the bar’s open door
sends me the taste of his breath,
cheap peppermint and wine.
Its succulence dulls my senses.
His terrible fingers trace my neck,
and I forget about the danger.
And he pounces, an incubus,
an ancient resident of urban wells like this one.
But his mouth is so sweet,
I cannot care.

i wont.
i wont make another
passage in my
skin like i
used to.
i wont allow the
blade to control me
again over someone.
i wont let myself
get to where i
was just a
few months ago
because being who
i was isn't who i
want to be
now.

ive finally started caring
again and even though
it hurts sometimes,
the pain isn't as
bad as it was when
i had nothing left
inside.

roses are red
your lips are blue
i hope you like these flowers
because they're for you.
they say you can't hear me
but i don't care
because deep inside
i know you're there.
your skin is pale
and the machines beep
but i know your heart
is mine to keep.
the line is about to go flat
please don't go
you're the one i call home
the only one i know.
your heart isn't beating now
your skin is cold
there goes my dreams
of us growing old.
these roses are red
but my heart is blue
and you left me now
and i miss you.

I fall for you
Again and again
You're a blessed heart
And more than a friend
You help me up
When I'm fallen and *****
I thought you always seemed
Strong, oh and sturdy
But sturdy walls do not fall
They keep others out
I'm glad you let me in
And well you're all I think about.
My love has some passion
No rhythm, no rhyme
And I never shall fall for you
One last time.

You missed it.
I gave you a hint.
It was here somewhere.
Tell me
Do you know?
Because it ruins it if you do.

I never really understood poetry
with Mary and her secret love affair with a lamb
and with Humpty who fell off the wall
honestly I thought that poems and rhymes were a waste of my time.

then I saw you
and till this day I never really understood how you always tapped your foot, and how you always held your coffee mug a little slanted, and I was always scared that it was going to burn you. but it never did.

you truly fascinated me, in the most spiritual way and I just had to talk to you or I'd die.
and so I walked over.

I didn't even introduce myself when I sat down. All I asked was, "do you write poetry," and you answered with the simplest yes. you then asked me if I wrote poetry too, and I shook my head saying I never really understood it.

I never really expected my heart to jump out of my chest when I saw your pink lips stretch into a full grin, and it fascinated me in how your top teeth were perfect straight, but your bottoms were crooked. and how you kept on tilting your coffee mug, and how I just realized you had four freckles making some sort of constellation on the bridge of your nose.

you then told me about how people wrote poetry about stars and death and life. and nature and mostly love, and God and the truth that we all know but don't. you told me how poetry is about nothing and everything, but at that point you lost me.

I wondered how poetry could be everything and nothing when you became my poetry.

poetry like the way you tapped your right leg to the beat of Jessie's Girl
poetry like the way the dimple on your left cheek looks like one of the moons craters.
poetry like how your long brown eyelashes hide the cosmos of your green eyes.
poetry like how you throw your head back and laugh as if you just heard the funniest thing
poetry like how you smile with all your teeth and heart, crooked and all.
poetry like how you tilt your coffee mug to the right instinctively.

poetry like how you stopped tapping your foot.
poetry like how you got braces on your bottom teeth.
poetry like how you never smiled anymore.
poetry like how your cosmos look dead.
poetry like how your constellation of freckles disappeared.
poetry like a straight mug of coffee.

Sometimes I wish I lived
In another time
Another dimension
With a different story
Maybe similar characters
But I don't think I would choose to be
Where I am
I wonder if I would change
Who I am.
Because that's the whole point.