One sullen October morning
his feet lead him to the deserted fields...
She lurked behind corridors
disguised as a queen...
The broken glass tears through my bare feet.
Ten newspapers covering my unmitigated body...
Riesling rays drunk among
a flock of radiant stars...
I look in the mirror
And see a reflection...
O dear heart, what is love?
Is it something to see? Feel...
Meet me under the power lines,
In the pewter sky of November...
An opaque room silent
no hidden voice to be heard...
Mom
I never had a childhood...
Hunger is such a wanted emotion.
It takes over me with one strong motion...
Notebooks filled with thoughts of love.
Words penned in secret ink...
If A Cutter Cuts For Attention
then why do they hide it so well...