I felt myself slipping
Falling into a sudden death...

You could wish away who you are
It’s called not being true...

Blond, brunette, black, red,
It does not’t matter to me...

I held beauty in my arms and felt complete
I felt perfection with my own fingers...

There is nothing I can do and little I can say,
I have seen perfection clearly and I must let it...

I try to write poetry
but nothing will come out...

Either too far or not far enough,
Too shallow or way too deep...

*** If you want to read a serious poem then stop...
I seem to have a small bladder...

So sharp that one touch would tear your skin...
So powerful that one hit would rip straight to...

Dark clouds in my mind suffocate every desire
Destroying each pathetic dream...

I'm blessed to have the chance to know you,
To see purity with my own eyes...

Crystal clear, like sheer water,
As obvious as can be...