The whispers of “Sorry”, haunt your brow
Shall I bear the burden of your guilt?
I don’t want to.
Call me selfish and afraid.
But I’ll laugh at that thought,
As I cry my pain away.

Synapses roll off the tongue,
Stutter and glitch
Stut-t-t-ter and glitch
Repeat....Re...p-p-peat
Misfired.
You a broken doll
With your bright brilliance.

I had a heart then,
but then the Queen drowned in a tea cup,
overflowing with complacency.
It’s delicate porcelain shape
a study in the emotionless.
A Jack of hearts slipped in,
To steal it all away.

How sick and foolish—
Just a drop—
And I now taste despair.
Feel it crawling inside:
Dark and poisonous
Like your humanity.
But oh! How I shall fight!
To be freed of your mess
And shackles.
Until I can laugh at your face
For all the pain,
You forced me to swallow

A tightrope dance,
Along the spiders web
A gasp
A moan
To set the ethics quivering.
Perhaps the Fall
Into that raging morass
Shouldn’t depend on that last little swing.

There’s a square,

The silence kills me.

In which the okay things go.

Unasked questions,

But I stray sometimes.

I want the answer to.

I don’t mean to hurt you.

The Poem I’d never write
Has perhaps already been written
Drained out of me
By poetry classes
And poetry forms
In which to force my words
An emotions to fit
Into squares

If I breathe
In and out
If I trust
Completely
If I’m strong
In mind
In heart
Can I hold you?
Forever?

In.......out…….in…….out
My lungs scream at me,
While my mind races thoughts in ever faster laps.
The winner undecided as flames begin to lick the outside of the car.
The waterworks fall.
In.......out…….in…….out
Is now a wailing siren
Wailing sirens,
With lights exploding behind my eyes.
I try to pull the car over, but that steering wheel is stuck in the drive position
In.......out…….in…….out
The noise is too loud and this hallways too crowded,
But I can’t go back to that peaceful pond.
Because, Lord help me, I’m afraid I’ll drown.

Perhaps, sometimes,
I wonder at your indecision.
A little bright leaf.
Refusing to touch the ground.
But there’s very little wrong with the ground.
And in touching it,
Something astounding might begin to flower.

I wonder sometimes
In the still of the night
Thoughts twirling in my mind
A dance of light and color
If you had stayed
If I had changed
If Time had slowed
Long enough for us to catch it
Would I be happy?
Would you be strong?
I wonder,
In the still of the night
With the moon gazing
Down upon open staring eyes
Eyes seeking that moment beyond,
What was left?

I would have judged you
In that moment.
Between breaths.
When the hesitation spoke for you,
I would have judged you,
But I choked on my bitter rebukes
And started to drown
In the aftermath of it all.
I would have judged you
If there had been no need to judge myself

White Knight?
All the stories have been told.
Black Knight?
A touch to evil for my tastes perhaps.
Gray Knight?
Most would say just right. I say eh.
Pink Knight?
Too tempting I should think.
So neither it is.
I’ll take the Jester
If you please
And smile as my woes crumble before me.

I’ll shout you down,
Laughing in my way:
A joy filled sound,
To shake you
To your core.
A sound to amuse me,
To shatter the farce.
Sweet and pleasant,
Loud and musical,
Never have I heard
Such terrifying Joy.

Little leaky emotions run,
Dribbling onto paper, or
Those pale computer screens.
Mostly black and blue
Never white.

You’re a primary color,
The brightest of the bunch.
Even if your shape is
Slightly off from circular,
Your wedges make,
the best bitter smile.

Silky, red-ribboned Fate.
You shine bright,
Wrapped tight around,
This silent stack of letters.
They now smell of sunlight.
Instead of the damp and dark.

The slow churning of the tides,
And my little boat
Afloat,
On a glass sea.
A ripple.
A shudder.
A shake.
And my little boat,
Roars with flames.

I left Marcus Aurelius on the coffee table,
Stumbled and caught myself in the mirror.
Only to tumble on down through the fridge.
I was seated on air as a guest of honor.
Feed my wisdom, drank my creativity.
Finally breathed in your soul,
As I crawled up the bed to tuck myself next to you.
I sighed and began to dream again.

There’s a marred reflection staring back at me.
I wish I could tell you what was wrong with it.
Its blank gaze and happy expression say everything’s alright.
The pressure builds and sweat beings to seep
The mask begins to slip, but I dare not show the underneath.
I need this face to present to others
For I need their acceptance to feel some worth.
But it’s only what they considered worthy in their eyes
So I’m beholden to their stares as I shift to conform.

I’ll fall.
My tarnished ideals,
Heavy on my heart
And filled to the brim
With intoxicating…
Lust?
It sweeps through my veins.
Leaving me wrecked,
Lost in dreams
The kisses of memory
A hazy shimmering world.
Heart pounding.
Beating.
Thrumming.
I’ll lose myself in the mists.
Emerging, filled with fire.

It was a merry-go-round.
I was gambling on the animals.
There was something more,
Going on between us.
A faint flutter of discontent
As I laughed astride a Tiger,
Ready to battle.
I’m not making any demands.
Complete surrender is all I’ll take.

Disappearing into the milk
Silver goes for a swim
And a thunderous whirlpool

I see you world...
Through my mirrored eye,
Those nuanced shapes of yours.
Animal forms in all.

You, fairytale princess,
Who looks out my mirror
Chocolate eyes, pert nose
And lips drawn in a bow.
I don’t think you
Are at all real
But I’ll sit and stare

Modesty diminishing.
Difficulty at the beginning.
Independence, confining
Taking apart stagnation.

These unspoken words,
They recall a moment.
Against the inky black of the sky,
Touch, whisper soft, on skin
Poetry spoken quietly, contented.
Movement, undone by moonlight.
Disquiet soothed by the stars.
A moment of peace in between.

A soul, a skip, a time, a page.
Twill and twine, butter me up.
Bowler hat, dapper gray.
Tea and twist, slap it away.
Hatpins stab and teamice snore.
A soul, a skip, a time no more.

The waters run
Murky deep.
Muddy chocolate
For my eyes.

I had never really liked you
Until that day,
When I noticed
You didn’t look at me
With shame.

Not myself,
Not with those wide staring eyes.
Staring through this wall of water,
Leaking from my attic spaces.
My brain leaks fears, like a rusty tin tap.
No, not myself.
Not with these thoughts or falling tears.

In which 1 am is just a prelude,
That slight bend in the road,
Or the loosening of inhibitions.
And, ooooooooohhh,
All the delicious possibilities.

Perhaps there is no wonder.
As it all feels so gray.
The color slowly leeched.
Just as the sun
Makes our vision white.
The little paper bird
Sits all dusty and bleached upon the shelf.

What a terribly frustrating thing relationships are.
I wish I had more wisdom to dole out or,
Perhaps some pithy saying that would light the spark.
That moment of ah ha!
That moment where you know you’re going to be alright.
When it all comes together.
When you’ve found yourself again
But I can only pound out my emotions onto paper
Share them, and hope they resonate.

Relationships are terribly frustrating things,
But being stuck in silence is worse.

Perhaps I shouldn't mock your previous sentiments,
But Lord Bitterness has requested it be so,
And I am but a jester on strings for my Lords & Ladies.

If I cut them with vorpal shears I might be free.
More likely I'll just collapsed, a pile of cut parts.
Better I sing and dance while tugging here and there.

I'll eventually pull them all deep inside me.

On those quiet gray days,
My mind wanders.
Echoes of anger and hurt
Greet it as they paint the walls red.
They haunt my footsteps
They haunt my memories
Making me aware of how wrong,
Absolutely everything was.
Make me wish for that time,
When I can live and forget.

The night is dramatic
Awash in silver and black.
Without the stars
The full moon glows,
Singing to you, lullabies
To ease those skulking dreams.

All quiet nothings
Exist within the dark
Just like your broken promises.

In the quiet space,
Between chapter three and four.
For now, there’s magic
Between these lines.
A point that is
Often ignored.

She supposed it was more than just rain.
It was a touch, light and rough upon the skin.
A harsh tap tap that seemed to echo through the world.
Eventually, it took over as she knew it would.
It felt cool, running down her soul
Not that she wanted the cracks cleaned out.
But the rain was insistent, formidable, and crushing.
It was, after all, more than just rain.

Oh, Darling.
You can’t fix yourself by breaking someone else.
No, perhaps I can’t Love,
But when the heat rises up in me.
Making my skin glow,
Lining the holes in me with molten gold,
Perhaps I can burn them down.
Raze their structured beliefs
Until there’s nothing but choking thick ash.
If something survives it is beautiful.
If something new grows in that new fertile ground
Then it is precious.

Rising, twisting flames,
Ruby golden against the shapeless night.
Bright enough to drown out the glitter of the stars,
Thrusting higher as they devour shadows.
They reach for their distant brethren.

Reality?
Perish the thought!  
In fact, let’s drown it in a cup of tea.

I’ll stand,
an awkward flower amidst your thorns
Perhaps a touch battered;
Most definitely worn.
Red and invoking dreams-
I’ll stand.

She stood, thin wire
Beneath her pointed feet.
“Just a show”
She whispered. Her
Feet danced endlessly
In crimson shoes.
Pirouette, and bow.
The curtain fell along
With her tears.

Twisted, complicated steps
Of a graceful waltz;
I’d fall if not for my partner;
Where? I’m not sure.
I’d say into the dark, but its day.
If only I weren’t afraid to be lost.
Wandering mind, twirling thoughts,
Startling clarity, the center of the eye.
I see only a jagged edge of red ribbon,
Caught fast in your affectionate hands,
Woven from our bleeding hearts.
I could be bound tight by you;
Blinded by spinning visions,
Of a maddening waltz
The strings of music bind and tighten.

And such a tempest;  
Roared inside the refrigerator!
Food is the way to a man’s heart,
my mother told me.
I rather did not listen
and gave myself away instead.

Ride through my veins, driven by your cruelty and anger
Leave me nothing, but those shadows and dark places,
You were afraid to touch, afraid to enter,
As my broken hands clenched red fabric,
Twisted it ‘round as whispered screams echoed.
The cracks though my being, held together by silken webs.
A rough touch enough to break me and scatter,
My mirrored reflection towards the stars.

My anger was righteous,
Deserved and harsh.
It poured your ichor
Onto paper.
Mingled words on
A hundred pages.
Only to set it ablaze
With blue flames
That took years
To do their job.
Now the coals smolder
In destruction
And wait,
Patiently

This Rush,
Heady, intoxicating
Pounding against my white interior
Clawing through my skin.
Begging, fighting, screaming,
For a way out.
Dripping, oozing
Through every word
And every well timed ******.
Its fire and warmth gives me
A new sort of fragile
Strength.