Untitled

Mend my broken fingertips,
to black and blue they're beaten.
Don't fly away on paper planes,
you are yet to be written.

Penniless in a wealth of words,
All alone in crowded rooms,
Nude I stand before you now
stripped of masks and of costumes.

I will water you with tears -
Bloom on, my answered prayer!
Let your skin settle on me,
I adore its every layer.

You are missing

Tonight
you look pretty for no one.
You stretch your fingers to Earth,
but Earth has had its fun.

Now
you hear echoes of voices,
names you thought you knew
soiled with other first name choices.

Mother,
how dare you birth me
in hollow heights of pale shadows?
From you I free.

I hear
nothing of you.
You cry in cobweb corners
you're your self's overdue.