christmas again,
pinch me again.
i know i'm not sleeping,
around the house i'm creeping,
well past midnight,
well past our nightly fight.
pinch me.
just in case i'm sleeping.
if i'm not,
pinch me again.
just use scissors this time around.
i'll learn to love that clipping sound,
although i only hear it
when the metal clips the air,
my skin will learn that it means
the blade is almost there.
so cut me up.
and wrap me up.
i'll deliever myself to your front door.
you'll never know what you have in store,
when you pick up the gift,
rip off the wrapping so swift.
watch as your own eyes go wide,
as you uncover a chunk of my thigh.
scream as you uncover a dislodged eye.
focus your stare,
on this murky hair.
let out a scream.
you will never wake from this dream.
this is my gift to you.

---------------------------------------------
somewhere in between the summer

and the winter, something must have
happened. something on a sunny weekend,
stomach aches turned to hearbreak and
new friends come to abrupt ends. sinking
now in lingering imagery, twisted thoughts,
and twisted lingerie. i'm holding
onto past memories and your sick
disabilities. your lame excuses and poor
recluses led to lonely night times and
conrtrived rhymes. forcing a pen to
parper, in desperate attempts to
forget her. hiding in a crowded room,
avoiding conversation as if it's doom,
i've got a back ache from leaning on bricks,
eagerly awaiting the 26th, so this
whole time can be summed up in
this cliche rhyme. overusing
words to fill a page, i'm
stopping now with a newfound rage.

i'm a loner.
-------------------------------------------
treat me like i diesease.

the explosion rendered all my slurred words stationary
instead of them crossing the supplementary of stars,
leaving me tossing empty voices over the pitch black,
yet still in tact, night sky. my torn wings,
attached to my weakend limbs, are getting ripped
off, this week end. but that's alight. i can keep
them paper clipped on, there's no safer way to
fly. you'll find me when my blood dries, but you
won't mind. i'll leave a pretty description, a
petty exclamation, a shitty proclamation,
to display my desperation. a lack of
inspiration, caused by your ugly motivation,
this is my final selection. headed off a tree
in downward direction. flailing body, you
see. failing expression on me. you treat me,
like a sufferer of the great depression. if
you understand, it's a situation to hate. now is
when i land.
------------------------------------------
fast cars and astronaughts.