If You Were Born Today, December 18
You are a proud, idealistic person who is sometimes quite stubborn and set in your ways. You are more emotional than is obvious, and having a purpose and direction in life is vital to your emotional health. You need to feel proud of what you do, and the more you do, the stronger a leader you are. Your manner is regal and respectable, you are far from petty. Relationships define you, and many of you have a hard time being alone. You have great respect for others who are clever and witty.

Sunflowers worship, while the pain disintegrates
It drips, it suffocates, and the stars illuminate through his bloody fingers
His single step, a red puddle of mistakes
String like tree branches, his limbs go
Into the soft dirt
It pours over him in the glossy forest of purity, and faith
Limbs tremble, fingers bare, chest ruffled in skin, his body lingers
The clouds awaken
Swirling over his body, like vultures
They land.

I dreamt of you last night,
Pushing myself into your sight
Having you gaze over me,
Like meat I was,
Dangling, waiting for you
To buy me

Dead, alone
Looking for a plate to rest on
Only for a moment,
Before I come to be incarcerated
In your selfish skin

These are the days when
The veins crawl over my eyes
And I’m blinded by the shadow of you
Consuming my mind
You’re a parasite
Suffocating my insides,
Poisoning my heart

I long to let you go
Strip your wings, crush the
Blurs of you in my mind
Wipe them away, replace them
With mirrors

I long to look at myself,
Asking,
What I have seen in your skin, and then I,
Remember the twinkle in your eyes, and the way they
Glossed over me when I saw you for the first time
It was this day, a year ago,
How can you forget?

I miss the pain,
I miss my mind going into intermission,
Where the days lingered on and all I forceful ably cared about
Were the patterns of you

You’ve left me broken,
Crushed underneath your mantle
A delicate doll, a quite little girl
Searching for salvation

Days pass where my heart lingers inside of my body like a coffin
Buried underground, beneath my thoughts
Roots dig into its valves, while my breath keeps
Beating away at the countless amounts of dirt and wood
I scratch, I peel, I starve
As the wood dampens, and my heart slowly erases
The many memories of you, the many
Forbidden footsteps you left on my
Oh, so lonely heart.
It beats only faintly, as if it’s lost forever

Unused beauty, unused flesh
My heart is starving- once again-
For the tip of your tongue and the ice
Upon your neck

The Girl in the Photograph
Withers while she Decays
Six feet under

A black velvet dress, matched with
tipsy high heels
and a plastered pale face

The glass went through her
As the photograph tumbled under the scraps of
Selfish thoughts, children swaying to paint, and the bitter taste of
summer

Her childhood lies in the batch of photographs
left in grandma's mossy car, where no one choses to go

We let her stay dead, never opening the box
For if we do,
we'll illuminate her eyes,
touch her senses,
and color her mistakes.