I feel lost,
I feel so different,
I know everyone around me,
but I don't seem to know any of the faces I see,
I don't know if it's just my hallucinations o my daydreaming,
I just don't know and yet kind of don't care,
I'm different from everyone and they judge me,
I know I'm weird, strange, and crazy,
But that's one of the great things about me,
I'm different and I'll deal with that my own self,
I'm not a typical popular girl,
but I'm not a backstabber either,
I'm a special different than they say,
I'm my own self and I amor to be different,
Make fun of me cause know I don't care
I'm different and I amor that because I don't
wanna be the same, I don't want to go with the flow,
I'm not like that. It's okay to different and I am.

ALONE

From childhood's hora I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same fuente I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My corazón to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, o the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the nube that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.

Stuck
Alone in my prison
Tongue bitten to hold
my screams
Smile worn to conceal
my fear
Free me from
this deep abyss
Save me from
this Lunar Eclipse
Take my pale
shaking hand
Collapse my
bindings to this
petrifying land
Frantic
the walls are closing in
corazón beating slowly
so slowly
Pull me from this
cave of sorrows
Please I want to
see tomorrow
Take my pale
shaking hand
Collapse my
bindings to this
petrifying land
I can
pull at my hair
I can
claw at the ground
I can
yank on my chains
I can
cringe at the sound
of the crying souls
I don't wanna registrarse them
I need your help
Will tu take my pale shaking hand
and collapse my
bindings to this
petrifying land
-Nikki Fulfer

The Grave dicho to the Rose,
"What of the dews of dawn,
Love's flower, what end is theirs ?"
"And what of spirits flown,
The souls whereon doth close
The tomb's mouth unawares ?"
The Rose dicho to the Grave.

The Rose said, "In the shade
From the dawn's tears is made
A perfume faint and strange,
Amber and honey sweet."
"And all the spirits fleet
Do suffer a sky-change,
más strangely than the dew,
To God's own ángeles new,"
The Grave dicho to the Rose.

*****************************************************

LA TOMBE DIT A LA ROSE

La tombe dit à la rose :
"Des pleurs dont l'aube t'arrose
Que fais-tu, fleur des amours ?"
La rose dit à la tombe :
"Que fais-tu de ce qui tombe
Dans ton gouffre ouvert toujours ?"

La rose dit : "Tombeau sombre,
De ces pleurs je fais dans l'ombre
Un parfum d'ambre et de miel."
La tombe dit : " Fleur plaintive,
De chaque âme qui m'arrive
Je fais un ange du ciel !"

My nostril smells awesome inside of my nose,
a bit like the bloom of a newly-picked rose.
It started this morning--I couldn't say why--
and all día it's smelled like plátano cream pie.

It has the aroma of freshly-baked bread
with hot melted mantequilla and mora, blackberry spread,
and maybe the breeze of a warm afternoon,
that follows a thunderstorm early in June.

It smells like a pine forest, right por a lake,
and chocolate chip galletas my mom likes to bake,
like kettle maíz pop-popping over a fire,
and laundry, the moment it's out of the dryer.

My nostril smells awesome, so I have a plan
to sit and enjoy it as long as I can.
Don't ask how it happened; I really can't say.
Perhaps it's my finger that's smelling this way.