
chasing-rabbits
I am a painter, a craftsman with words and imagery. I’m not well versed in the ways of poetry, but I’m here to learn and grow. My future is shrouded in dreams, hopes, and falling-star wishes. I’ve always written as an escape, a way to step back and just…fantasize. To let these pen-stained thoughts take flight and soar past the state of whimsical illusion straight into reality. This wonderful masquerade we call life can be overwhelming with all the enigmatic colors and deafening white noise that scorches our ears and drowns out our thoughts, but I can honestly say that I enjoy every moment in this world. At the same time, I am anything but a liar so I can’t declare that my soul has made it through this bloodbath unscathed. I’ve had my own share of anguish and despondency and my skin and heart are riddled with healing wounds and moonlit scars. Nonetheless, I try to keep my chin tilted up and my lips parted because even the worst storm will fade if it sees you dancing in the puddles.
You pressed your lips against mine
And told me it would be okay.
You swore that we were perfect
And whispered all my fears away.
But now we’re here,
Together
Yet alone, we stand apart.
Our words cutting deeper,
Like knives through each our hearts.
All I wanted was some comfort.
Someone to relieve my aches and pain.
But instead I found a Monster,
And was unprepared for his game.
You kept my love safe and warm,
So I began to relax and hope.
Never knowing that in due time,
You would leave me,
Tied
With ropes of lie.
No way to perish nor cope.
I still remember asking,
If this was too good to be true.
You smiled sweetly at me then,
Took my hand in yours,
And slowly pressed your lips against mine,
Just so you were sure.
I fell so deep in love with you
That I’m not sure which ways up.
And without your voice to guide me,
I feel like I might erupt.
We made so many promises,
But now they’ve turned to smoke.
Feb 17, 2014
Feb 17, 2014 at 2:58 AM UTC
Can you see it flicker?
The vibrant light stutter and glint.
This picturesque scene of desolation,
Our anguish forming our only stint.
This life we lead fuels our sedation,
Hissing out lies to keep the monsters at bay.
“You’re beautiful, strong, creative, kind…
Bright”.
Like a flashlight in the dead of night.
Like a star as it soars, it’s tail alight.
Like a lantern, as it gleams quite contrite.
We are all just flames,
Burning, Blazing, Beckoning,
Ebbing...
Our legacy a trail of smoke and wax.
The scars we leave our true regret.
We’ll sit in darkness with great compunction
Too scared and lonely to forget.
Feb 17, 2014
Feb 17, 2014 at 2:28 AM UTC