I have a Venus fly trap Underneath my lamp light, And in the final hours of the day It likes to sleep in my room at night. Its traps are beautifully red on the inside Awaiting for its prey, which I provide. Though everyone sees a dangerous predator, Perhaps a curious beast. I know what it truly is, Because without me it would be deceased. My Venus is much more delicate than you think. It would die from a drop of water from my kitchen sink. Such a plant depends on me. Sensitiv

Sometimes I hear your breathing. Usually, it’s when I’m washing my face, the cold water running in rivulets down my skin, my eyes shut to protect them from the pain. My senses are heightened, then, every nerve on guard for what else could hurt me. That is when I hear it. Your breathing. When I go to check, pulling back the shower curtain, my face dried off, leaving the freshness that only cleaning can bring behind, you aren’t there. You are gone. It is as if you only exist so

I. The perturbed painter sits meditatively in front of a blank canvas/He can no longer differentiate night from day/Black from white/Wrong From right/He needs a solution, an end to the perplexing internal battle of feelings/So he paints/He creates, invents, and innovates the most spectacular of wonderworks/Entangling his convoluted emotions into bittersweet words/And translating the imagery of a hundred unspoken thoughts into colorful, picturesque settings. He is surrounded b

Sexuality was a slow, quiet discovery for me.  I never knew my body could hold power, when I only hated and hid it When I became aware of it I had already long been an object of desire. Not in the sweet way that I'd always hoped someone would look at me, but in that way every girl who is not quite a woman knows: something to be taken. And you must know that everything I did was to feel as though I had power. Like I could steal myself back because I knew why boys would stare o

Murder, murder down the hall Who is the next victim that is going to fall? Creaking footsteps coming closer  Sweat droplets seem to be colder One step before I am found But then murder turns around Running steps all over the floor Murder lets out a ferocious, laughing roar Screams of pain can be heard And the final last word Drifts into the air Forever lost and can not be repaired  Police sirens surround the home Police don’t let murder free to roam Murder got caught and surv

They see the world through a darker lens, The cynics who view themselves as pawns in a neverending chess game; My foes who tell me that one day I will be as pale and lifeless as the moon and stars, For in their black and white eyes, I am nothing more than yet another colorless thread embedded in the universe’s core, Devoid of any intricacy like a blank document on Google Docs. Firmly rooted to the roller coaster that is life,  Screaming for air Whilst deprived of oxygen. But

I pass by peers, I’ll listen in. (Prefer to care for those my kin,) I mustn’t stay— My feet drag on. (as most of them are not yet gone.) My jaws uneased, my teeth collide. (They need more words to be supplied) I say my piece, my cards fare fine. (but do they know the hand that’s mine?) I survive the day, my night is young. (The group has followed; they don’t belong.) My humble home I’ve time to spare. (They love the freedom they've come bear.) The mirror has cracks, my eyes i