Infinite Mind Spasms

Extirpate all colors that dim your heart. Our primary life should not be the bleeding tint of hurt, but the blush of a warm chance with real people, not with the ones soaking in their shades of lies.They will fade!

Monday, August 3, 2015


Love does not cheat you,
It should please you like chocolate
On a pms day,
Love does not lie to you,
It should fill you
Like a Chardonnay.
Love does not hurt,
It should give you flowers
And a beautiful face.
Love is not love
If it bruises your day.

Sunday, June 28, 2015

I wear love

It hides in the pit of my heart
Shirtless and bare...
Neutral and cold but
Warm when it gleams gold.
Black shoulders, blushed soul
Mates with the sorrow and bleeds
Inside the pockets, it seems
To burrow in never land, never
Unknown and infinitely crushed.

Thursday, June 4, 2015


No one will ever see me
if I hide in my own skin,
No one will ever love ME, if I can't.
I have to love
to be loved,
I don't love who I am.
I need a perfect
in a sense
to feel free--
Free of a misery
which drowns

Just Hannah

Wednesday, March 18, 2015


Life is not a poem.
There is no reason to our twisted life's rhyme.
There is no system to our metaphors.
Our lips are enemies and friends--
one has a song, one stays mute.
Life is not a syllable,
No ball rolls when gravity is null,
no words speak--
Our lips are killers, healers in the same.
One speaks riddles,
one resolves the pain.

Saturday, December 13, 2014


When it rains, it pours....
sometimes; sometimes it drizzles
and tricks you.
Life is a cloud, you never know
how wet you may get.
Carry an umbrella or prepare to
get drenched. 
The sun will shine eventually...right?

Tuesday, December 2, 2014

Little woes

My days are full,full of emptiness. I think about death at least once a day, how would it differ than life. I don't want to die, but does death hurt like this hell on earth? Life without stress sounds like heaven. Stress has followed me like a tumbleweed, collecting burdens through the deserted years. My burdens are the past that I cannot brush off, a stain that will never wash out. What's worst than a broken heart? A bruised one,blackened from years of insults and dirty hands. A little girl trapped in a woman's body is a mistake, a curse,and what's this all for? What positive fate lies ahead for this entrapment? Will stories, I mean truths, unfold? How many hearts will be broken if this one heart explodes? How many bruises could I heal, or how many could I prevent? Maybe I will grow up when my truth is free.

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Emotional Vulva

Does your lips get lost in the midst of the blow? Do you miss the feeling or the lust you just felt? Do you think you are in love as rock bottom has reached you? Sometimes I think I may be a man, or think like a penis. I roll over with no emotion or sigh. I can say goodbye without a twinge in my clit. I can leave and not hear a goodbye. Am I heartless or simply separated from love? I have a heart, I have a body; I have emotion, but not in the vagina. Don't get me wrong, I am glad my inner walls don't create a heart, but most woman I know fall in love once they have been invaded. Maybe that's it! It is an invasion. An intruder! My mind has many doors, but no keys to be made; however, my heart is a chastity belt, whipped and broken. I don't know what love is, do I? What does it mean? Nothing means anything. Anything means everything when you can't let go. This vulva may give, but it can never be taken. No emotion in between these legs, only sighs with no religion.