upon my chimney
proud sparrow proclamation
declaring kingship
Mar 28, 2012
Mar 28, 2012 at 2:29 PM UTC
you couldn't be less complicated
your love couldn't be more pure
nothing about you could be distilled
in you is the very essence of
unconditional love
unquestioning loyalty
boundless joy
instinctual compassion
infectious enthusiasm
years of life and love shared
you wanted to be with me at my least loveable
you changed my heart
goodbye, good boy, I love you.
Mar 26, 2012
Mar 26, 2012 at 11:36 PM UTC
Mom's pillowcase, sealed airtight.
The scent of her, sleeping, remains.
Mar 23, 2012
Mar 23, 2012 at 2:43 AM UTC
the contour of your brow was made for me,
for me to press against my lips as I breathed your scent.
when memories of us surface, I must willfully forgive.
but sometimes I'm lost in one of those pure moments -
and it overtakes my senses
and no time has passed
and I feel your skin
and smell your hair
and feel the yawning space in my chest where my love was so sweet it was cliché
Mar 23, 2012
Mar 23, 2012 at 2:24 AM UTC
Some things burn cold.
Dry ice, steaming, almost smoking.
So cold it burns, sticks to your skin, and just keeps burning,
killing what it touches, scorching and searing,
driving nerves past the point of pain to numbness.
There’s dry ice in his eyes.
The scathing words that fall from his tongue
give off toxic vapour.
The set of his jaw,
the grimness of his mouth,
the tension in his body so like the posture of one steeled against winter weather.
But he is the cold front.
His hatred the wind that freezes tears on eyelashes.
His withdrawal ******* warmth like sub-zero temperatures that chill to the bone.
There is nothing to do but hide.
Insulate. Find warmth wherever it resides.
Run, stomp frozen feet, cling to whomever is near.
Stay out of the places where the frigid draft creeps in.
Seal the gaps around doorways and windows.
Shut out the mind-numbing cold, draw up the blankets,
turn towards whatever fire there is.
And do not go back out there.
Once-frozen flesh remembers the cold.
The pain is made new, faster than before,
no less debilitating.
I will not look in those eyes.
I will not let those words freeze and shatter my heart.
I will not mourn the smile that once rested on those lips.
I will not feel that cold again.
Until I catch a glimpse of myself in a moment of rage,
a bluish pallor on my features,
frost on my lips and in my eyes,
and freeze in a panic.
But I refuse to inherit that legacy.
Mar 20, 2012
Mar 20, 2012 at 6:37 PM UTC
I used to watch you while you slept and hate you
that you could sleep
while my mind was racing
while my heart was aching
while I wept.
the alarm clock lit your face with a blue glow
you slept like you had earned it
while my mind was racing
while my heart was aching
while I wept.
without waking, you'd reach for me, pull me to your chest
I'd breathe your scent, feel your warmth
while my mind was racing
while my heart was aching
while I wept.
I used to lie in your arms while you slept and hate you.
Mar 20, 2012
Mar 20, 2012 at 6:05 PM UTC