To T.A.B.

  No, I didn't want to marry him. I just loved him with so much of me that nothing is left to give anyone else. I love him more than I can explain, but I hate what he's become. And I knew that we would never be together. I feel sad because I lost him and I don't even know why I lost him.
  And I keep trying to convince myself that I don't love him and that I'm okay, that I'm fine and that I've moved on. But the truth is hidden inside that I still love him. And I didn't want to let him go, and I should've said something to him. Should've told him the truth behind the tears that continuously fill my eyes.
  That I love him and he took to much of me. I will never be whole, even though I know it will never be. I just want him to know that I still care. I love him and I'll always care. I want you to know that I love you and that I want  you back. Its not meant to be, but I've spoken my truth.

The Sky of Black Stars

  I see beauty in the colour black. We are segregated into colours. We are a rainbow of imagination and lives. Black and white, what's the difference? Aren't we all the same inside? Why are we separated and interrogated? Separated by a spectrum of colourful hate in-between.
  I see beauty in the colour black. Who am I? I am judged by my size, shape and my colour. Do you know who I am? Can you see my personality by the colour of my hair? Do you know my history by the colour of my eyes? Do you understand my pain by my face and colour of my skin?
  I see beauty in the colour black. An ocean inside that gathers tears from the clouded mind. If I say I'm here and I'm not, can you see me? No. I'm invisible to your eyes because you will only see me for my skin. So, do you know me? Do you recognize me? You never will see.
  I see beauty in the colour black. I am what you see. I see beauty in the colour black. I hide in the dark. To you all I will ever be is darkness. I see beauty in the colour black.

Skulls and Roses

  In amongst the skulls and roses,
lie dreams, broken and destitute.
The autumn leaves, golden in hue,
scatter over the skulls and roses.
  Gently does the dew cover the
leaves as tears for broken dreams.
Touching deep within the blood of
the skulls and roses.

Nonsense

  The angry tears fall like rain,
you've left after using me again.
  Tore my heart out if its shell,
leaving me unprotected and unwell.
  Caressed my soul with deadly fingers,
the affects of which still hover and linger.
  My stomach churns and burns
at memories of you, but the soul yearns.
  Yearns for your touch to release me,
cries for you wicked love to set my soul free.
  Your freedom kills, yet my desire
burns for the feel, lighting me afire.
  The angry tears fall like rain,
you've left after using me again.

Medea

Suffice to say I am vengeful,
crying ceaselessly,
oppressed and hateful.
Righteous indignation,
never peaceful. Scorn.

Broken Blood

Walls made of bone, of blood,
made to entangle souls in flood.
Of dark, of death, of night.

Desperate cries in the dark,
hysterical, yearning and stark.
Help never comes, no beat of the heart.

Mangled bodies, bloodily hewn,
struck asunder by an unseen doom.
Chest gaping, revealing a broken heart.

Broken blood runs aside,
never a happy place to hide.
Deep is the wound, harsh is the knife.

Deep inside an earthen tomb,
hidden as in the womb.
The dark will silence the blood.

The Hands

  The hands reach up to the bloody moon,
her wicked smile stretched wide across the sky.
  The hands hold up the bridge,
built of bones and deserted bodies.
  The hands cry out, trying to grasp
something worth the touching.
  The hands reach up to the bloody moon,
murdered by her own sins.