I am embarrassed
To have
Ever
Loved her
To suffer
That much
For no reason at all
Is such a silly
And deep
Wound
That was ultimately
Self-inflicted
And now
I don’t know how I am supposed to be expected
To trust myself again
Clearly,
I am not to be trusted
With knowing
What is good for me
I can’t even tell the difference
Between what is
Love
And what is
Poison
And maybe
I am so eager for one
That I am willing to sip on the other
In hopes
That one day
Love will touch my lips.
-C.H.
Why is it that we are so eager to appreciate the beauty of a: flower, or a waterfall, or the stars, or a sunset; but we are hardly ever that open to seeing the beauty in each other? Why is that, dear
“A simple request” she says, “Speak to me in poem, intrigue my mind with your words, genuine and authentic, for your words become actions, are the framework of our relationship, and have the power to
There’s a camera on top of the building Next to this one And it points Right at me I lift up my shirt And flash it my hairy nipple Then I give it the finger It moves with me Turning as I walk away fro
