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The Flight Between, (this is for Michael R.I.P.) Date: April 15, 2006

The car crashes against the tree
and eloquent sounds of breaking glass
embrace my hearing and hug my sight,
as sun shines down 8 year old light
onto the scene in front of me
as the other car drives past

The drivers side, a silhouette
of a figure, downwards slumped
The window, closed, is splattered red
as somber blood flows from his head
onto his jacket that lies lumped
next to his unlit cigarette

I try to walk, but cannot catch
the means of which to move my feet
The scene, imbedded in my mind
replays itself, each time I find
my vision moving past the street...
My throat fills and I cough and retch.

The windshield had swelled, expanded,
like the stomachs of those with child,
and burst as someone was forced through
A toddler, maybe one or two.
A high-pitched scream escaped, unbridled
as I watched him as he landed.

He strikes the concrete with a crack
His scream is silenced when he lands
I freeze although I should have ran
to help, to cry, do all I can
But all I do is watch his hands
Clinch a moment then fall back.

Nothing moves and all is still
Silence deafens, and I scream
the sound made by his shattered skull
The wayward motions of his fall
The mangled hopes, the useless dreams,
are amplified by what I feel.

As I stood frozen to the spot
Wishing I could press rewind
Erase it and then I could forget
The noise his head made when he hit...
A sentence rambled though my mind
Disabled by a single thought.

An idea formed during the scene:
The crash compares to giving birth
Born when the shield bursts
until you land and die, head first
Birth to death, from car to earth.
with life only the flight between

Eaten By Love Date: April 28, 2006

When he looks at me, he looks straight through me
Like I were a looking glass, and he was Alice
If he would step through me, precision applied
What would he find on the other side?

Would he see my world like facets in rubies
Different depending on which way you look
Would he realize that he’s inside of my heart?
Or would he be careless and tear it apart?

With words quick and sharp and dripping with malice
Would he pick me apart with a glance like a hook?
Would he be a parasite and eat me alive?
And if he were, would I want to survive?

With him fitted inside me, like I were a glove
Oh, that I would die being eaten by love!

Down Date: Durning the FCAT..


I’m down
I don’t know what it means but I’m down.
Having my emotions manipulated by a heartless machine
So who cares?
I know some do..
But I ignore the bright side..
Everywhere to hide, but I know I shouldn’t.
I’m down.
I am laughing at myself.. lost inside myself.

All I can do is try and help others for it is to late for me..
And they say it’s good, but I don’t feel it is enough.
And I say “shut the ******** up,” but they do it anyway!
How do they communicate to person who won’t hear
but wants too? How can they help?

I express my pain myself in so many ways..
Not enough.
An escape.
I know of many tricks.. and some seem to work, but don’t.

It’s not fair.

Sometimes in my favor, but usually in someone else’s.
And the scary thing is that, that is a lie.

It works so much in my favor! An the bad things I ignore, so I don’t feel like I do like now.

Made aware of false things by a heartless machine and told their true.

I know of no answer and this poem is unfinished.
And never will be.
But this is good enough, a harmless addiction..
To the love of not being in pain by my own mind.

I don’t care.. but I do and love to care.
But for a moment ago I was made falsely in pain.
For others that do not exist but are around..
In the world, in our heads, in our thoughts, in our lives.

I only love those who are kind and good..
but only know hate for a little while.

I can cope with horrifying knowledge
but don’t know how I do it!
I have felt the truest love, and often ask myself if
I would feel pain if one I loved died?
I can tell most of the time the difference between love and infatuation.
I learned the word ‘infatuation’ from Stephen King.

Scary isn’t it.

How the most emotional times in your life can be calmed or enhanced by simple words..

When none are needed. I think there is an end to this
and this is it:

I’ll love, hate, adore, comprehend, and do
all they ask.
Have separate feelings from those who tell me what I should only feel.
I will try sometimes and not try on others.
But I will succeed if I direly want something and I will get it.

Life is bleak and good and full of different truths.
An all of them I accept with open arms.. but throw some out in angst.
Then welcome them again.

I will do even if you tell me not to!
So goodbye for now
and farewell

The Dance of the Worms(don't ask.. -_-')Date: ?

A thousand worms one day
decided to dance
they jeered and they jiggered
they screamed and they swaggered
they hopped and they staggered
and left a strange odor

they crawled through the chimney
in fluid-like motion
the minions of music
in strange locomotion
convulsed with the beat
of a thousand worm hearts
as they slid and they shimmied
a matrix of parts

Their slime trails trace
the source of their path
from the space in the trees
to the lavatories
That hadn’t been cleaned
in the long history
Since they were first built
For the people’s behalf

They dance until dawn
waltzing their best
till, with a great yawn
they leave home to rest
for the toilets are welcome
They sigh and a thousand
of squiggling worms
Leave their celebrations
and squirm their way home
Their festivities ended

However, to each separate worm it is plain
The sunlight is mortal and night will still come
and release all the masses to their jubilation
For every worm knows it shall mambo again

Retrosepect- Part 1 Date: May 27, 2006

Annabella was alone
The paisley colored ghosts were gone
The man with the ice cream truck had long since left
And in her mind she still felt the rift

He was gone
And the sunlight of his presence no longer left a chill
She moaned inside
contemptible
Missing his touch
Even ice can melt occasionally
And so his freeze had turned to water
Revealing something Annabella had not been prepared for
She missed him so much
But the war had been declared
So thus she had been permanently scarred
Battle wounds, or such
Had he stayed
But had he known...
Annabella was alone

Retrospect- Part 3 Date: June 16, 2006


The ice cream man had driven away
All the demons of the day
And fall kisses bring small dreams
Recreated, so it seems
To hold her monsters far at bay
And following the path of night
Annabella had time to collect
Midnight visions often lie
Underneath the star lit sky
Never, ever question why
Annabella, eyes shine bright
Has lost the means of retrospect
'And', quoth she, 'Thank god for that'
Annabella turned her back
Not longer making small sad groans
Happier than she'd ever known
Recalling how the wind had blown
Annabella was alone