i hate the way she looks ...

i hate the way she looks
at you
adores you up close
and personal.

it should be my hand
caressing through your
silken tresses
lovingly lingering to graze the
plump lobe of your ear
softly,
slight feather light touch
while my eyes take in
your glowing scarlet blush.

i should be making you
tremble from the inside
out
as my lips parade
the length of your smooth
neck
your hands clasping
grasping me tight
to you.

i should be the one
who hears your soft laugh,
sees your sparkling eyes dancing at me
playfully,
i should hold your heart
and your soul in my hands.

but i don't.

she does

she'd better not hurt you
or i will turn wild with rage
claws extended
i'll rip her limb from limb
into submission
i will make her pay.

Lies

how many times do
you have to
say the lie
until you believe it?

or is that something
that just comes naturally
to you?

how many mirrors break
from the intensity
of your feigned smile?

how many lies must you tell
to forget about life
for a while?

what will you do
when others refuse to listen?

will your cold hearted heart
stop beating
will your pulse slacken and slow
to a sickening still?

will you for once
look in the mirror and rescue
yourself with the truth?

admit that you're not perfect
and that's okay
accept all your flaws
as well as your merits?

face recrimination and beat recrimination down.

you can do it
i have faith in you

i turn away from the mirror
and laugh.

Scar

raised white lines
dried up pits on twigs
these are the soldiers left behind enemy lines
in pow camps
or the purple ache in my chest when I said
good bye

the upturned ground
fresh and dank with its new corpse to eat
stretch marks on my body
a map of how i've grown

that cavernous tiny hollow on my belly
my first mark of life
tied off and cut free
the most elemental liberty
for me to be me

numb
above or below
it doesn't matter anymore
out in plain view
or hidden beneath clothes
it has a consciousness of its own