Martyr me, insinuate,
Pad my sins,
Make them larger than life —
Give the world something
To remember me by.

Oh, the memory of you,
The many tiny trails
Across my heart —
Of kitten paws and puppy love —
Now firmly crushed
Beneath your boot print.
You taught me everything
Love is not.

Rockstar, diva, PrimaDonna,
Look beyond your spotlight.
Your world,
Smoke and mirrors,
It's a stage —
All props, all fake.
You're not all that,
No more than a product we were
Made to buy.
Industry made you the lie.

Life's not fair,
That's just it —
Deserving
Means jack shit.

You're lost, samaritan,
Unwanted here.
Is it your heart
Or you
That's in the wrong place?

My anchor, my rock,
Keeping me down,
Holding me back —
I love you.

Now all your suffering is lost,
Only the hole is left behind,
An emptiness, too great to fill.
Now that the hands of time have stopped,
There is nothing left but memories
And their ever mounting costs.

Nature gaped, shaked of the dust.
Unleashed in a blinding fury,
Silenced with a thundering roar —
Life rained down,
Raging, screaming;
Rise, drink up,rejoice,
Summer is no more!
Thus began the fall.

Adoration on a timer,
Antipathy on repeat —
Capricious herd opinion.
What you see,
It isn't me.

Look both ways
Before crossing this street —
Art's a conversation,
Not a monologue.

Pheromone radio,
Dials spinning like crazy
Whenever we meet —
Mutual we linger,
Reluctant to resume
Our separate somedays.

Individuality in color-coded graphs,
Freeform exercises
Within cultivated norms —
Choose your part and play along.

With age
Comes frailty
Comes fear —
Less comfortable
The longer we're here.

All but memories has sunken
Far below the waterline —
See it wash away
Through clouded eyes.

Omnipotent sensations
Consuming without
Reservation, hesitation,
All and any
Remnant memories
Of life before pain.

No race,
No test,
No measuring of
Every suitor against the rest.
The problem's not
Our strengths, shortcomings,
Nor our love —
It's our baseless expectations
And our blindness to that fact.

You are
So many things
I despise —
And yet, you draw me in
With that single thing I like.

You know,
Sometimes words are overrated —
After all, did I not tell you
How much
It meant to me?

Rocks without the sheen,
Gold without the gleam,
Fire without the heat —
Burned up and washed out.
Mirror, tell me that's not me.

Throwaway morals,
Rooted in I —
Kindness, a quality
Unaffordable.