Roses Can Change.White roses make youcrybecause they remind youof him.To see you smileand take the painfrom your eyes,I'd prick each of myfingertipsand drip my bloodonto each velvet petalthat adorns the snaking vineso that the red roseswill make you thinkof me.
They Call This Drowning.We fell in love;A deep and surgingwatercolor seawith lilac waves thatwrestled with our ailingbodies,and azure air that choked ourlungs.We were in over our heads.
Fallen.I wonder how many tearsLucifer has shed,when he sees the scars on his backand remembers he once possessed wings.Probably still less than mewhen I look at your memoriesand see the hollow spacefrom where you cut me out.
Flawed Canvas.Your lipsleft watercolorstainsall across my heart.My blood isn't evencrimson anymore,its a pale and dyinglilacthat bleeds onto the floorand paints a pictureof you.
december.and when they take meto the morgue,will you see the differencebetween my skin and the sheet?and when they close my eyesplease be standing over me,so that your facewill be the last thing they see.and when those tears falldown from your facepour them on my lips,so i can take you with me.and when they look awaycaress my bloodless face,give me one last gush ofwarmth.and when they bring the casketgently tuck me away to sleep,read me one last storyfrom that book atop the shelf.and when they place me in the ground,beneath six feet of dirt,leave your footprints in the snowand please don't let them melt.and when I fall to helli'll be waiting at the gates,but darling please take your timethere is no need to rush.
One Day His Life Will Be a Classic.There's sorrowon his lips,and sonnetsin his eyes.Each scar on his wrist,speaks in fatal monologue.He lives a tragedynot evenShakespeare could write.
jigsaw puzzle.i found you as brokenpiecesscattered about the ground,all mixed upin the dirt.it took some time,but i did tryto reassemble your body and mindand to mend that velvetheart.i didn't have the boxto go bybut i think the outcomeis beautiful.
3:19 AMand at first i called you asthma,because you made it hardto breathe,but then i realizedyou're justnicotine.
Arachnophobia.You caught mein your webof liesspun oh so carefully,in such a prettypattern.When you lured me,all tangled upand trapped,you whispered your venomin my earsand injected your poisoninto my heart.I never hated spiders,until I metyou.
Story Time.You are an open bookIn a language that I cannotRead.
BrokenCan't fixwhat's never been whole.
11:47roses are redviolets are bluecompliments mean nothingwhen coming from you.don't tell me i'm skinnydon't call me fatjust acknowledge i'm humanand leave it at that.
long distance relationship.and do you thinkthe moonever gets sadwhen the sun leaves herto shine forus?
Recast.It's not naturalfor a corpse to beso warmand a living soulto be so cold.Let's switch places;allow me to lie in yourcoffin,while you sleepin my bed.
Marigolds.I bought the flowersto put in your hair.Now people are telling methey'd look betteron your grave.
Empty Pages.You are the perfect story,A plot unfurling from your touch,And poetry in your eyes.You speak with golden glory,Into sentences of hate,And promises of lies.You are the bookI never had the words to write.
you're so blind.here i am drowningand you have no idea what to do,you're so lostand panicking.why don't you take your handsoff my shoulders?
Featherstruth is a bird with broken wingspretending it can fly-
bon appetitshe extracts her heartfrom her cavernous centerlike a no-good tooth.coughing, she serves it upon fine painted ceramics.he lifts his fork,spears the meat.chewing, jaw swaying,he samples a bite.then he frownsand spits intohisnapkin.
.and they knew,they knew i'd gone -when they found me outside crouchedwith a string box and stick, singingi'm going to catch me my death,make him sick -now i sit in a gown that is whiterthan white, doesn't suit me,this ghost to myself -on the corridor bench with my kneestucked in under my chin, rattlingwith green yellow blue(i've told you, i know where i'm going)
.i think you know of hair wound tight round a hand like ropeof thoughts that sail in and let down anchorin the night, sleep drifting away on the black tide,i think you know of god up in the crow's nest, keeping watchhis eyes have rolled at us so much they rattle, loose nowin their pits like marbles, they say he knowsi have examined the slides of my childhood, uprooted my body,yanked myself out of my years with my own gloved handlike a weed and stared in disgust, it's only naturalthat you should still want to sleep with one arm overyour head, she said, don't you think?i think the sun lit upthe world's scarsand felt bad, hung its headthrough the horizonand cried in shamenow i don't think it's evergoing to stop raining(i am holding up my mind, i am shoving it in your face)
Glassi found a mangled bodyand tried to fix it.but i got too closeand ended up cutting myselfon the jagged remains.the bleeding hasn't stopped.
RedemptionRedemptionRedemption they askmy moonless nightsLurkingin the darkness of my mindAlways whispering,that there is no other storyTo redeem me,Except mine.
Bleeding Outhe broke my bonesflung me into the snowbeat my swollen heartand ripped my light apart.congested my memorieswith terrible painripped out all the stitchesto make me a scarf.but he was already fadedand long gonebefore winter fell. i bled out for a vampire.
Once Upon A TimeOnce upon a time there was a girlAnd she lived.
hauntedour house is hauntedmemories floating like ghostsscreaming without sound
Work of art.Don't wince at my scars, instead use them to find where I am broken, and put your body against the cracks.Don't let me fall out of myself again, the parts might fit together, but the breaks are never clean.Sometimes I feel like glass in the middle of a war zone, just the sound of goodbye may destroy me.I've picked up the pieces before, cut myself with shards of who I was, carefully pasted them together with who I am, hoping no one would notice.The trouble is the masking tape I used, doesn't seem to mask anymore.The trouble is I leave tiny bits of myself behind me, just so I can be found.The trouble is my heart is made of clay and it might just break with one more fall.Maybe that's the wonder of me, even once i've broken…I can break again.© Rocio Belinda Mendez
How Love Works.I neverfell in love withyou,you neverfell in love withme.Your demonsfell in love withmine,my demonsfell in love withyours.