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| "A soft spot in words"
This is our love poem
Spoken from the blossom that awakes next to you each morning
Although I am not speaking aloud
Quietly in hopes you will still hear my murmurs and susurrations
I do not engage these particular words for the world
--no intent to write them
For the sake of a city
For the sake of art
They simply trickle down like the rain you enjoy feeling
sliding down the branches of the blossom I am
-they flow straight to you
And through writing these words
I recognize
That your lips could save me from the perils of
loneliness, of dejection
And I realize, like the way blossoms spread so beautifully and flail in the wind
Your lips flail over every inch of my skin
You must know
I will remain the buds in the palms of your hands
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| Something I wrote about 5-6 years ago...
"Sold Yourself"
You were trampled on and torn apart by your so called friends
assumed they were close, but only to get your degrading life
time for a party every time the point hit exact
on your personal profit scale
you're the talk in a locker room
to the strangers from a chat line
To each single thing that passed by you
you sold yourself
every bar stool you sat on
you sold yourself
through every fight of Amazon
you sold yourself
every weekend, they bought you, sold everytime again to
any man who is sleazy enough to pay cash for your body or integrity
you hit rock bottom in a pit, a canyon built as a passage
Do you realize?
next time when you are alone
think nothing but about the baby
you haven't loved her that much lately
Might as well have your name in flashing lights
and star in a film
can be loved by human dirt and be known as an x rated figure
I won't put you down, but I'll say what's real
your prices are so low, you should know
you are so worthy of life, shouldn't need a mans touch to prove it
still to each single thing that walked passed you
you sold yourself
every bar stool you sat on
you sold yourself
every fight of Amazon
you sold yourself
every weekend in a bedroom sitting next to a little girl
who you say is meaningful yet you stray away
bringing her the pain
keep leaving her when in her eyes you are priceless
how can you manage to tear her up
so easily, so freely
unappreciate everything completely
you cant blame someone else, its not only their fault
you have to learn to control you
when there are
4 small bright stars right in front of you
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| "Think before you wear yourself away"
Speak to me from beneath the grave
I’ll be standing over yours
But don’t worry, you will not be underground
Rather dead above ground, in the worst of ways
While your lungs are still capable of breathing
and your children capable of seeing
You will not grow as if you are
Stable
Breaths inhale and exhale so hard
As a pound
As if breathing will rip down these partitions
that remain after your implosion
Dispel and display the inches left, the heart, the hearth
The dirt will not bury you
But the doves will disappear as well
As when you begin to dissipate while breathing
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| “Love Pt.2”
At first
My naivety led me to believe
The only color of love is pink
The color of solidity, security and glee
Where belladonna and razorblades are far off in the distance
And one seems to lose touch with all resistance
Trees remain firm into the ground
And bouquets just happen to constantly be around
But love as it is, is not simply pink
Nor is it black or red or discreet
It is every color, every experience, every turn
Like the sharp random beat of unexpected curves
It is security and insecurity
Hesitance and resistance
And although we lay firm at any moment we may lose our strong stance
our trees become uprooted
our bouquets turn dry
As quickly as our smiles become fluid, as quickly come the cries
And although our roots are ingrained or perhaps uprooted
We knot, we tie and we melt ourselves together
No matter the curves, the cries or the insecurities
The beat of love has a constant ingenuity
To renew or relinquish us
To fill or deprive us
With its satin caresses
or jagged edges
To care for us or simply kill us
To create self awareness or cause us to self-destruct
To construct or tear us down
Love must always stick around
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