HER
shedding blood on my white t shirt , wearing boots in spring and leather jackets in summer,
am I alone?
inhaling the unique fragrance.
nothing prepared me for her,
her the magnificent.
is it true that butterfly's are made of crystals?
I feel like one.
it's one voice then another
yes to this .
no to that.
is it normal that I tend to think about my well being?
is it fine that I rather overload myself with thoughts of unity than talk about what's for dinner?
I cried & cried over again ,
the glue substance on my lips provoked me to speak my timeless thoughts,
the smell of bath salt on my breath is giving my stomach orgasms,
the tingling feeling riding my back feels like stepped on broken glass.
nothing prepared me for her.
her the magnificent,
my fragile heart feels lost so does my mind.
I ask god where does these thoughts come from ,
my soul or body?
I wonder if I died today would dad notice,
he never noticed my performance work but he did notice that time I wrecked the car on 4th of July .
I wish I had the privileges to fly .
everything else is stronger than my heart even ant farms.
I'm fascinated with life
nothing prepared me for her,
her the magnificent,
HER name is life .
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