'simple'

is not a word of description

that does you well

your insanely guarded 

of this, I can tell

you share little

even when asked

answers vague

and well masked

theres so much more to you

just beneath the surface

but I hit close

and your nervous

I don't know you

nor you, I

but it's clear 

we're

just 2 hearts

more familiar

with

goodbyes

.j.

Shed no tears
for broken me
as my parts
are often stronger
than my whole.

Reservation and Warmth
don’t see eye to eye
and Forthright leaves Private
often wanting to cry.

And then we have Shy,
we forget that she’s there,
because Socially Bold leaves
no attention to spare.

Lively finds Serious
boring as wood
while Perfection declares
Tolerance is
misunderstood.

There are
so many more
of these fine
pieces and bits
that they’re much
better off broken
and battling wits

.j.

yup, 
your right
'I bite'

and you've clearly been bitten
way more then 'twice'

but take a deep breath, boy
let go of that 
fright

lets just keep having fun
all 
 through 
  the 
    night

yup, 
your right,
I ask a lot of questions  
I seek 
  insight
into that heart
you've got zipped up 
so 
  tight

Im curious
and right now 
its 
just 
  nice

aware we are both broken
but can still share in 
this 
 delight

in words
in touch
in sin
in dark
and in light

but I can see it in your eyes
feel it in your touch..

yup,
your right,
we're both  currently broken,
and 
yes,
  I 
    b i t e.

.j.

Some say ‘Ah, but love is sweet!

Like candy kisses on the skin,

the sugar can’t be beat!’

Fools, I say,

for they know nothing.

Love offers no silverware

and pours the weakest

of apologies into your glass.

Love expects you

to eat with your hands

and steal that dinner roll

from your neighbor.

Love’s party is

the only party

you shall ever attend

where the host prays

you leave bruised

and empty

from her table.

Love’s a lot like supper

with a wayward Aunt

who’s mentally unstable.

~j

~Dinner for One~

Devotion and Ardor,

Theatrics and Hate,

show up for dinner,

but Love?

She runs late.

Patience is drunk

and Envy just laughs

while Truth tips

the wine

and fills Hope’s crystal glass.

Wish Love would hurry.

The pot roast is cold

and Need’s hand’s

on my thigh

for he’s always too bold.

~j~

 i don't know exactly when

my father realized

life 

wasn't all he thought it would be

he quelled his disappointment with beer 

nightly

and often gave in to rage

and regurgitated that disappointment 

unto my mother

and myself

he preferred a backhand

but scars inside my mouth

and holes in the drywall

of my childhood home

prove otherwise

i don't know exactly when

my mother accepted

'I love you'

with less pleasure

and impetuous pain

in a lonely life 

she'd work herself to death for

i don't know exactly when

i started to carve out my own 

version of love

in the flesh of boys
in the soothing comfort it gave me 

in feeling their heat rising

and in my own euphoria 

from their touch

i made men ardent lovers
but kept my heart locked 

to keep earthed

all other emotions 

i would never again

let them steal from me

i don't know exactly when 

i put down all my armor 

and sat in the sun too long 

with you

i didn't notice the shriveling of me

like a raisin 

nor, did i notice 

the loss of life

until i was too broken

to fight

and i learned again 

that my body and soul 

and weary heart,

were merely casualties of life's  war

where,

pray
 as you might

God, 

never comes 

[... but he does.]

.j.

Burton

.voodoo girl.

Her skin is white cloth,

and she's all sewn apart

and she has many colored pins

sticking out of her heart.

She has many different zombies

who are deeply in her trance.

She even has a zombie

who was originally from France.

But she knows she has a curse on her,

a curse she cannot win.

For if someone gets

too close to her,

the pins stick farther in.

.

-tim burton-

Trains depart

hourly

from the station

in my head.

ideas converge,

sinful words are shed

on a platform,

some poems fall dead

for there simply to intense

to possibly be read

for in my head

is a subway of secrets

that i constantly hide

to dark for most

to even consider to ride

so i’ll wait in this empty station

alone with my luggage, 

overpacked with

 frustration

until possibly, the proper conductor doth approach 

or these coal fumes choke me out

from complete

 asphyxiation

~j~