Today you said you'd always love me.
And you didn't ask for my naked breasts or
my submissive body beneath silk sheets.
You didn't even ask for my loyalty.
It's hard to believe the tragedies that
we've brought to life before this moment.
I've always wanted a relationship
to be dangerous. Call it my penchant
for self-harm, or my need to feel
victimized, but I crave love a that
could burn down towns, destroy lives.
Passion isn't safe, it takes causalities.
People spend so much time balancing,
looking at their feet and trying not to fall.
We are brought up to believe that pain
should be avoided at all costs, but what if
your happiness lies just beyond the thorn bush?
I won't claim to be fearless. It seems that I am
constantly caught between apprehension
and regret. My indecision is a wall that
very few would dare to scale, but your words
are building me a harness. The other side is
surely filled with storms. Treacherous animals
that would seek to tear me limb from limb. There
may be pot holes and misleading signs, long stretches
of greedy quick sand.
But, then again, no one remembers
journeys that were effortless.
it wasn't the fall
that worried her
she enjoyed it
the wind in her hair
the gentle sunlight
trespassing onto her skin.
it was the landing
that worried her
of where she'd end up
hoping a cushioned cloud
would wrap her up and keep her safe
that a landing in treacherous waters
was just as likely
but she enjoyed the fall.
He soon earned his first battle scar,
When he went to war, but then he went too far,
Past barb, bullet, and fallen comrades,
Through fog and bog as hope slowly fades.
Cannon and shot heard all around,
But trembling bushes hear no sound.
Valiantly still he held his own,
But treacherous powers had him blown.
His eyes wandered to the lateral rose,
Blossom he desired, but thorns he chose.
Equal in the dust made, his crimson slowly flowed,
Replenishing parched dirt; the petals slowly glowed.
The clouds since roll above this hallowed place,
Where smiling cherubs give Boreas chase,
And each that hears the singing bushes knows,
The ballad of the warrior and his rose.
CC BY-NC-ND 3.0
God save me from left and right.
A hundred decisions and revisions--
I never want to cry,
I want to swell up on the treacherous surf that betrays me.
May each drop of saline-sympathy
Melt back into eyeball-oblivion,
Creep slickly down my throat,
And escape hereafter through my ten toes.
But too many of them I have banished this way.
Once they merely wet the soles of my feet,
Callous from a million paths undiscovered.
They whisper terrible things in my ears,
Until my lungs grow so full of their sound they
and leave me
an empty woman
in the satisfied grey ocean I once refused to admire.
He said, I will see her again one day
Even if it's the last thing I do
Too many words left to say
Too many flowers yet to bloom
I will search the hills, and valleys deep
For my soul that never fully grew
Climb the treacherous rivers deep,
I you only knew, he said
I still remember each day so clear
As if I'm in a dream
The tender touch of your lips too near
That wash my heart so clean.
So tell me dear, how do you spend your days
How do you sleep, next to his ear?
Do you miss the songs I used to sing
Do you miss my tragic ways?
Because blue has become my favorite shade
Under trees where his tears have dried
Thirty years and my imagination finds
That I wish we would have tried
Hands that were meant to be in mine
Our lives will heal in time,
Our lies will heal in time
Take these words and hold them true
In wilted hands I've sewn.
Photographs only say a few
Memories of how we have grown
But take this moment and make it yours
Keep it for your hands
For my heart I'm saving for my own
To bloom upon the lands.
Treacherous winds, that blew all night long, brought me,
a comely dove, immaculately white, with broken wings;
I tended her, brought back to life, fell in love with her, even against my wish,
when the sky was clear, she flew up, not even once looking back.
Oh...Did I just say
I wish I could give you the world
And fix all my mistakes
Is a giveaway, isn't it
I fear it is too late
I wish I could say I promise
Or maybe I just wish
I never said it in the first place
I feel the poison
From my treacherous heart
Spreading fast through
What yesterday felt so true
What is the truth anyway
I do swear I loved you yesterday
Do you know
Who you are?
Take off your cloak.
acknowledge your scars.
Remember realities woes?
All the darkness that you know.
will engage darkness
in long and gruesome war.
The winner will be the
that you keep high and
safe in the stars.
misery stripped you bare,
and your scared
of all the things
you don't say out loud.
Look up and wonder
where god hides in the clouds.
Soon you find him again.
You were scared,
where was he then?
where you've been.
who you're meant to be
Then you see
what god sees
and you know.
The pain is to make you see
If this is so
You're a person like me
way to go.
I am your nightmare, I am your fear.
I am vile, I am a bat screeching in your ear.
I am torture, with a capital T
I am a noose that you cannot see.
I am the part of your soul that is black.
I am the treacherous thoughts you can't hold back.
I am the devil's spawn, the seven deadly sins
I am the sociopath acting out on a whim
I am a corpse on All Hallows Eve
I am the homeless, begging on my knees
I am the scum of the Earth, the dust of the wealth
I am an alcoholic in withdrawal, a person dying of bad health
I am a tumour, gnawing away at your life
I am a scar, being torn open by a knife
I am the bad,
I am your paranoia, your reoccurring denial
You created this monster, this omen of death
And I will remind you until you take your last breath.
Living in me is pain
and its known – the wretches of
wretches, are just wretches,
– Remember that! –
The pain of a hundred needles
thrusting into the brain of a miserable
lonely man, prickly pine needles
sit restless in the cavernous
flesh sphere – tears falling from
the glassy entrances to misery.
It doesn’t stop, doesn’t stop –
The torment goes on and on –
No release, no breaks no freedom –
Its constant and persistent, the torture
of falling naked into a cactus over
and over again.
The plight of the sad man –
Is the treacherous trek
that is all too familiar
as the road turns and ascends
the blindness sets in –
the sunsets, the moon snuffed out by the clouds
filling the night sky.
The sad man reaches the peak –
His destiny brightly lit by the frowning sun
Nothing lets him stop, he is forced
to continue, seeing, hearing,
feeling, tasting the tears forming
and falling from the thought of
meeting another anguish-latent destiny –
The wretch of a wretch is just this sad man.