How I long to love you-
How you ache to break me.
The sky is purple through my eyes,
A bright collage of everythingness.
I see that you're staring at me,
But I don't believe that anything is wrong.
I believe that the truth is full of holes,
And the lies are more truthful than the truth.
I believe that anyone can tell a lie,
But it takes someone special to tell the truth.
I see the grimy green lining to the clouds-
Maybe there's some truth/lies to my insanity.
My Memories Shall Bury Me
Tremendous distress slashes through my mortifying memories,
Classic epitaphs creeping into my dreams; scattering when I wake.
People with their snarling humor, viciously reporting my hysterics to one another.
Afraid of the thunder, but my troublesome dignity won’t let me scream.
I shall be buried electrically with the thunder, which is frighteningly vigorous in its pursuit of me.
Pace your vicious reports of my ingenious burial.
My Little Black Butterfly
I caught a little black butterfly,
I kept it in a jar.
I carried it with me
Where I went, near and far.
It listened to my problems,
My sorrows and my grief;
It kept me from self-destruction,
It brought me sweet relief.
My butterfly became my best friend,
My whole world in a jar,
So I had no need for real friends
For they all seemed under par.
Eventually, my butterfly withered
Fro the pressure of my sighs,
So much I believed it began to hate me,
And it shriveled up and died.
I wept and sobbed for days upon days-
Nothing could tame my tears-
For my black butterfly listened to me cry
And fluttered away all of my fears.
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