You are -

She wades through lavender skulls, and emptyink pens, to get to her idea of morning.

I wasn't drunk when I touched you.

if mornings were like this, but they're not.

Your mouth will taste of Lot's wife.

a couple of hydrogen atoms destined to combine into a helium isotope and light up the entire universe.

For uncommunication.

down to the fingernail.

Music > Sex

every word i speak, i call a lie.

always searching.

The girls with the larger vocabularies liked to call her 'unorthodox' but everyone else in high school labelled her 'freak'... plz r'n'r - one of my better pieces, I think.

Written for my English class a little while ago.

best friends forever.

Deep in the pit of my belly; based on a lucid dream experience.

it's that time of year when everything is moving.

anything it takes to be p.e.r.f.e.c.t

because nobody else thinks you're worth the bullet.

it's such a wonderful disease. hearing your screams at night (claw, claw, claw) it's a wonderful song:

arsenic flavored sugar pill...?

The world is gripping a pistol in its hands: 9 lines.

poem about burning. 'the smoke you spoke against so adamantly...'

Exponential decay. Lilac trees. Music so loud that it disrupts any natural functions.

For the lighthearted.

"implanted in an opera of anorexics" I'm obsessed with death. This is actually a...what would you call it...story poem. Like "letter to god"

I had fun writing this. "she waves a hand over herself grimaces humbly says / “some Things just go way Over my Head"

random art class memories.

This is an explosion, so good luck deciphering it. (I'm the man sitting on the bare couch with the cushions gone and x's on his palms...)