It is the way the world looks
When the sun has hidden itself
And the sky is glowing in sad gradients of shadows
Teal, aqua, lilac nights
Making statements to space

I wanted to believe that rocks would take in stride their banishment from life

I wanted to believe they'd be okay with being stepped on
Ground up
Piecemeal
Tumbled, tributaried, washed and molded
Into a beaten perfection that lasts momentary--

But they weren't.

They cried gems!
they made the best replica in silica they could

They were insulted and worn close to the breast at first, but shining too bright those greedy fools mistook them for
Moonstone

a legendary thing, sacred, not God.

I wanted to believe that these rocks were intrinsic, that they had something in them
That gold was worth more than its weight
And malleable

That there was god in those plagioclase tears, that they were not the embodiment of sin

I was not convinced

“Ought”
Ought to do
What a strange word indeed
Very different
From “will”
Will do
Rather like it’s
Parent
Following behind      the child
Stubbornly refusing the jacket
They
     “Ought”
To wear

This Morning... Dripping in a bleeding shadow's clothing
I lost a sense of existence as my gloved covered hands tampered with my phone... time wasting

Leaning against my black, silver chained designed backpack, pressed against a wall
I waited for my professor to come and welcome us in... I was freezing from the cold shoulder of fall

With my classmates quietly surrounding around me... Two sweaty Janitors came walking through
Ignoring their presence, my fingers only continued to twiddle again the screen,  "someone is staring at you."

My conscious warned. Frozen, behind my bangs, I cautiously move my pupils up
To catch the left behind Janitor's eyes on me... no one daring to interrupt  

His eyes started at my high heel boots, and slowly went up... studying every part of my temple
Trembling, my eyes looked away... pretending I didn't notice such a failing gentlemen example

"Hello?" He said... However, I  pretended that I did not his voice
"Hey... Good Morning!" he declared... as if to rejoice.

Very slightly, my eyes purposely hiding, I raised my head to show I have taken notice
"Good Morning," I spoke plainly, to brush him off, but he continued to admire me as if I was HIS Lotus.

" Hey, I can't see your eyes." Anger began to boil... So what?
I wanted my curtain of golden-brown hair to hide these jewels that haven't been cut.  

I moved them aside for a split second, to tease this fool..wanted to break his stem
and to reveal a hint of a cursed anger that lied within these gems

"I know" to show that they are hidden with purpose, he reminded me of a ****
But stubborn this man was, he bent down, trying to steal a glimpse

"Come on let me see your face!" He cried like a child
Trying to make thingy spicy, but it was truly nothing more than mild

He took one step closer, his face trying to satisfy those eyes that desired dark beauty
If looks could ****, he would already be dead and skinned down to the ****** bone... I'm not your cutie

One step back was the action I took as he saw what pleased him...A beautiful cat
"Now, Why should you hide such a face like that?"

He said with a smirk, trying to sound as if he was the prince for me
Not even my gloves could keep my hands warm after my heart began to freeze

Anger boiled over... knowing he wasn't saying it to be modest or kind
Snapping my backbone in half. feeling like an object... my possession was defined.

"Why shouldn't I?" I spoke with seriousness as dead as the bodies in the grave
The silence was so loud, it deafened everyone around me. My tears swell up with rage

"Tooshay" He said as he chuckled and walked away...
What a coward to give up his argument and fight... but thank God he didn't stay

...He didn't even have a defense to give... it goes to show what he was after
He didn't even try to convince me... His heart was in the wrong place... what a disaster

...I am so disappointed in men... You only see me as an object of abusive pleasure
You think you can have your fun and flirt away... Your foolishness can't be measured

WHY SHOULD I HIDE MY FACE?
LET ME ASK YOU WHY SHOULDN'T I?  His time was a waste...

I went to my first class... trembling in disgust...
I'll just continue to hide my face away from all of you... it obvious you men don't know what is true... pure.. or just...

I'm sorry for making such a fuss...

But Seriously...

Why Shouldn't I Hide Such a Face Like This?


                                                 10/15/2018

I'm no perfect human.
I make flaws.
But my flaws don't define who I am.

But the one thing that makes you can't love me,
is the fact I don't have the perfect body,
or the perfect beautiful face.

Should I love you?
Even that is all the reason why you can't love me?
Even I love you so badly,
it haunts me every day.

But how can I love you,
if I don't care about who I am.
But should I change for you?
I don't deserve you.
I don't deserve a person who can't
accept other flaws.
Then I can't love you.
Even if I can love you more than enough.

I should have let you go.
Real or not,
You're here or not,
It will always be the same.
I'm still lonely.
The fact that you are here changes nothing.

My world
is
aways sunset
and dizzy

Colours flash quicker
when I close my eyes

I like
to catch
falling things

Or floating things

-Maybe dandelion seeds

I will always trail my fingers along
every wooden beam

And write wishes in the dust
asking voices you can’t hear

Should I ? Should I ? Should I?

the homeless are ******* in the streets,
well some of them are

the homeless have been ******* in the streets
a lot lately

when they are not getting scatological on the streets of seattle
they are conjuring the other images of themselves, because there is always so much more to this story
as they sit on the sidewalk and/or in entrances of shops, restaurants, and other commercial establishments
throwing empty beer cans in the street
at the people walking past

they say seattle is going to be the next san francisco
because that is what tech is, nothing new
forgotten already done ideas redone
same price tags same coast line same **** in the streets

they must have thought something better
was here, waiting for them
when they rode into town
from other towns
housing, more drugs, a new life
in these streets that they **** in

not sure what they heard
their tents under the over pass
their trash upon the hill
overlooking the highway

their tents always have a highway view
their trash too

i should be that afraid of my own life
of what tomorrow will be
oversharing in a voice
that is not my own
miss jean brodie in **** city style