Dream A Little Dream Of Me

When people call me “honey”, this is what they mean-
I’m the most spectacular thing, they have ever seen.

I lounge in the honeycomb of the bee’s shrine.
So high up the tree, on the farthest branch I twine.



Folded palms, closed eyes,
Begging God, to respond to my cries.
Loneliness engulfs me from within,
Like atonement for an unknown sin.

The Purge

She saw the world as a merciless predator,
With life treating her like a cruel step mother.
Of unattractiveness she was the sole inheritor,
Of sorrow and endless pain, she was a messenger.