These writings are mostly unedited. This a piece of my mind, what I want to say that I have kept.

Cross-Stitch

You took something new,

turned it into some worn out old creased shoes

I romanticized the way you were in my head

like our path was never red

I always feels like I am begging for your time

Waiting for us to goddamn rhyme

You’ve held me like what an object is to a mime

The strings they seemed so red, 

They were, you knitted them instead

Little tiny holes in my heart, needle in and out

Your craft, your schemes 

Untamed edges, unsewn seems

Oh my love, you’ve left me on a cross-stitch

You said I looked pretty, I feel like a summer dress worn on winter time

“Marionette, dance for me and make my wind bells chime”

I count,

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

 you feel like a new sin, and its too late for me to leave

My love for you, I can’t retrieve

For you I sing,

my throat, they always bleed

You break my trees, and make some tea

to medicate yourself

It always burns my tongue, no words to be said

Your craft, your schemes

Break my branches, curse my winds

Oh my love, you’ve left me on a cross stitch