I laugh at the half assed

poems that

you thought were

worth autographs.

Disgrace me with baby girl,

sugar, and babe

because my mentality is on

your behalf.

You'll never

know what it feels

like to be punched by words that

hurt more than

a telegraph.

Can't turn false heliographs

to sonnets when

the real example is compared

to a psychopath. 

I

tremble like leaf

on a snowy summer's day

even if

my mind is

gray and I slowly decay.

There's a bouquet of black roses

in my soul that

grow with

misunderstanding spray.

I'm prey on holidays,

in a cage of love and

opened bleeding skin;

I still pray.

They see me as an untamed

animal that

hasn't been fed,

the truth is that

I'm just clay.

My tongue can't say much

to a person who

lacks reason

and a

sense of passion.

Call me baby and give me lemonade

to spit in your orbs

when I lose

my token.

Garden grows violently,

the body

is

religion and it gets blocked by poison.

Fast,

too fast,

my mind is a prison that changes

seasons whenever

the balance deepens.

A sermon can be used as medicine,

but the

tiredness of my trauma

is my own personal heaven.

Don't call me baby

and don't tie

me up

in a red ribbon.

Step in my vision and call

me warrior woman,

I have an everyday mission.

You'll be granted

citizenship when you step into my nation,

you're not here for correction.

I'm a pavilion

of a million

imperfections that surpass

more than the sin,

we will never be

rotten.