standing somewhere stunning,
but instead of awe or excitement  
that deep, hollow loneliness festers.

couples pose under the Sistine Chapel —  
bet they're hoping for happily ever after.  
I'm wondering who'll cheat first.

and maybe, yeah, deep down  
I wish I was part of the —

Carnival —
rollercoasters screaming,  
cotton candy sharing,  
walking past the merry-go-round.  
I'm the wheel going-round-and-round.  
There's only one way off, another round.

oh yeah, deep, deep down  
I wish I was part of the —

Chaos
a small, stubborn spark inside  
reaches —  
and it stings. it stings so bad.

What's the point?
I can feel it standing on my chest
What’s the point of somewhere stunning?
If you're standing all alone

oh, if you're looking for me,  
I'm crying in the church  
on some random Wednesday  
bending God's deaf ears.

I've never been very good  
at convincing people  
I matter,  
that a connection with me  
is worth their time.

oh, I'm a stranger standing somewhere stunning.  
oh, I'm a stranger.  
oh, I'm a stranger standing somewhere stunning.  
oh, I'm a stranger —

standing somewhere stunning,

He's getting high again —
Negotiations with death, again
Says it quiets the suicidal thoughts

Survival needs no explanation —


Not to me
Not
To
Me


I'm ******* in my own...






Negotiations

i can't say i like the taste
especially—
it’s quite bitter
but you (i) much rather prefer
there’s nothing bitter about you

a nespresso with caramel—
no, i don’t see
the resemblance
(sticky, sugar, honey)
(stay, the taste—caramel)
i must be broken
but not you (you) are heavenly

(Oh—the door—hush)

the taste (you —sweet)—
caramel

He wears a broken watch,
Frozen hands, a falling arrow
Invisible letters, clear as change—

She loves him

Twice a day,
His broken watch tells this truth:
Love is frozen.
No need to wonder,
No need to question.

Very extraordinarily eternally

And time—
Twinkling,
Twirling,
Turning,
Ticking

pillow-soft
silk & skin
full—
meet
light pink petals
trembling,
sheet-tangled
marks on a body
blushing feelings
sweet nectar
lingers—
delicate, fragile folds
kissed by dew,
hush

Not flowers,
I will buy
myself—
only dark,
bitter chocolate.

February allergies—
how dreadful.