you are delicious
and force me to be concise
with my honesty
I who have never been
so open
like books we both carry in our heads
this is an interesting thought process

you make me want to spill my guts on your shoes and apologize for ruining them despite the fact that it was you that made me feel sick in the first place
you could convince a person to move to hell and stay there for an eternity
and I? I'm ready to rob a bank anytime.
 I want to keep my secrets and at the same time I want to tell you about everything I've ever seen and smelt, every prick of a thorn tree that made me lose blood, every goosbump that has crossed my thighs.

that being said, how long will I stay? How long before my stomach stops curdling and I break another ankle leaping across the street (the ocean)?

I’m making all kinds of resolutions like giving books a chance I never wanted to before.

I feel glorious. Sometimes I catch myself in a mid breath drool

m going back to where the devil may take me 

the huntress mights hunt me

and time is for the lonely

to think 

that its something of which i have plenty

oh and-

50 horses maybe 46, maybe less, clamoring towards me

hooves moving in unison

and heads bobbing in my direction

with a distinct smell of mushrooms, grass, the mountains

fresh dung too

which to me smelled like roses

this elixir of life

this is my heavenly experience

For all that we destroyed together
for each breath
THAT SINGLE ONE THAT
 I couldnt catch
you caught me
in the midst of a murder plot
I would like to murder someone,
feel life kicking out form underneath
thrown into hell by life's horse
but could it be any worse than not knowing you
one day?
If I could stretch my limbs
without climbing on a medieval rack
I would reach you
happily
and this nightmare would cease
my breath would stop
and we would live in death and beyond.

The thought
and thoughts of it all
gives me slivers
of shivers
and I cock my head towards you waiting for you
to make the next move
on our giant lifelife chessboard
when you call me your
"childlike empress"
and I know that we are
the neverending story
my charming Balthazar Bux

i fall in in love with those who love me back. it has always been this way. When my eyes dart from under my lashes and my cheeks get red its because of the way you look at me, no matter how much I beat my mind up over it.
There are so many parts of me that truly believe in the stories that I create in my mind. I just want some belief, some answers, some finger pointing about the direction I should take in life. I want someone to shake my skinny breakable wrists, and break my heart but finally, tell me, what I should be "when I grow up"
Life is too complicated and sometimes I feel like the way I'm living it is akin to a Kamikaze pilot.

there are so many parts of me that are grateful for having known you and so many parts of me that wish I could dedicate more of my patience in your direction so that we could still exist together.
then there is me flying away (as usual) because I got frightened and unhappy
because I had a small bout of maudlin, of wanting to see what I can do with myself elsewhere

I dont really know where to go anymore. I leave in 20 days to go to Slovakia and who knows from there and to where.

being with you is like
stretching out
after being in a really small bed for a few years
or my coffin

I recently found a picture
where my skin was so translucent
you could see the bruises
that were forming on my character

I think about my body burning
ravaged
in every way
but not death, no that would be untimely
just mostly in our sex

oh

its gasping and breathless

that I have been left

to catch

a breath

as a fish is caught on a hook

you have me

chained like a slave

a fish in a fishbowl to be observed

you watch me

and follow my pulse

like a fish gasping waiting to be cut

insides out

and left gasping

too like a fish out of water

I find myself that i am with you

I have a crush

on someone I've made to be so divine in my mind

they couldn't possibly compare

I've already written our story in my mind

do you know what its like

keeping my head under wraps

a turban

with the wind getting cold, cold, colder

and the sun fading

the sky closing in, down, down

such a downer

we are

we have been to each other

but that turban has turned like gauze in front of my eyes

and now its shifted from when i turn my head

to the right

but this has all been unforgettable for all the notes i have wrote

I have wrought

my hands

over simplicities like fishes in nets caught

that have dried and over time

stained beyond wash

we have turned our head

put low by the wind

turned down by the sky

and puddled like my diabetic blood

I'M IN LOVE WITH A ROBOT.

you have made me hate myself

but only in the way

that I admire

the most tantalizing characters in novels

the bad person is always the most interesting,

which is what I am most about non?

mais, quand meme

j'ai mal au coeur

mais aucun desire

de rehabilite mes sentiments envers toi,

et moi

ou bien comme tu bientot sera

vous.

there is a silken heat

that is infecting

all my unluxurious fabrics

that sway of silk I want to feel in this heat

like a breeze

a dip

my internal anger makes me want to combust

from inside out

leaving marks on the sheets

spontaneous combustion

and other paranormal

supernatural

unexplained

by those

undevoted

to notions of such crap

I want to drown out the fire

in a fit

through a puddle, midnight

while the whole street watches

so that its burns holes

into their hearts

while I seethe,

and let go of myself transfigured

the demon out

and the silken heat, the sweaty velvet, the musky damask

I just want to whisper something in your ear

that you wont hear

leave you forlorn and wondering

what I could have said,

especially judging from the way I cocked my head

these days I sit upon a cold patio

in a cold shadow

wondering where has my sun king gone

when its pluto I feel the most

I crave at least a jupiter

or a saturn with rings above his head

a golden halo

is it Jesus for whom I so desperately call

I am filled with enough sadness to fill 50 barrels of wine

all of which

I could promptly smash apart

like crystal breaking

and gashing all the liaisons of my heart

I haven't felt truthful in a while and

I sure admit I've got no alibi

but that certain songs break my back

and the pain of the bones makes me cry

my heart and soul and mind are like a desert

in which I used to want to live

till I discovered that

even in places where water doesnt exist, there are caterpillars

perhaps I am an ocean instead, a lake, or a river? I guess it could be best said that I am a brook that dries up without rain and causes flooding when its torrential.

I had the most luxurious dream last

of the most wonderful man- he enveloped me in his love and I've never felt happier than when I was looking into his blue eyes

it's so embarrassing to dream about someone you lurked on facebook- and have seen

who doesnt live in your town anymore

nor could even imagine your existence

I wonder

out loud

if its true that when you dream of someone, they dream of you too.

in that case I hope I was as delightful as he.

I have been changed by the sunshine and my nose peels like a snake- just as my blood runs cold, colder when you step in the room because I no longer feel remorse at your actions, your words, your emotions. Those tears come straight from the bottle my friend, the bottle of visine you carefully drop in whenever you want to stir up any emotion from THIS stoic here.

ALbeit, I do feel bad creating the misery you suffer through but I have made it clear, we both know our ABC's so why dont you just back away safely from the jaws of this evil snake queen?

The earth shakes below and my mind is creating enough lava to put this planet into a black hole. I am hell and heaven and you have entered purgatory- dont follow Beatrice, she leads you nowhere good dearest Virgil, for I did intend to keep you alive.

SO here I go, low beneath the water levels of my darling bathtub, surrounded by sounds that make me want to put stones in my pocket and walk into the river. Here I study and dream of everything but this, here I pause at the top of the stairs at work and daydream of everything that isn't a part of me.

thank god for dreams and words and knowing that I can summon emotion when I want to, sadly I no longer do.

Love,

your stoic evil snake queen.

ps. V, I miss you. Honestly.

dont talk to me about my vindictive nature, let's not talk about the storms I can connect with and contract, with the winds that could blow you off your feet.

you say you fear the forests and I understand your fears as much as I resent them because deep inside in the lushest green of peaks is where I feel the most connected.

we are like two very different peas, yours have been genetically modified and created on to look, but mine are alive in all senses that are five, you can taste touch smell hear and see my peas, whereas yours, well I dont know if they truly exist or not.

I make up words as I go along in order to express myself better because I have felt like I am both muted and dumb in your regard because nothing I say seems to enter any orifice of your body other than your nose where unfortunately it cannot be processed- that deviated septum has stopped the connection from nose to brain- the egyptians would find it all to be a problem. your soul could not be removed because I am convinced you lack one. I am equally convinced that I have 30, or is it 23, for each year of my life feels so different to me than the last and who's to say that I cant be a different person in the same skin every single day?

let's neglect all feelings and any that have passed through us in the past three years and call it a day, when really its been over a thousand. Our time has been like Anne Boleyn's reign, a thousand days, a baby girl, a lot of fights, much mistrust, lots of distance, many wars and ends with one of us losing our heads and the other marrying someone else 3 days later.

oh for god's sake, for once I want to keep my head and get married.

maybe one day I'll let you in on the big secret

until then feel at peace in the poppy fields of my dreams

under the spell of this lush-full opiate you are

blinded by everything that is your eyelids hiding you from the truth

(YOU ARE CONSTANTLY INTERRUPTING EVERYTHING ARTISTIC THAT COMES OUT OF ME AND I'M HAVING A CONNIPTION.)

oh and you above and you below are NOT the same person. One of whom drives my migraines the other that drives all my best dreams.