With you
I am a tourist
You carve your smile
Tell me I’m welcome
And hold out your hands in demand
I know something is wrong
But this place is so masked in serenity
I do not care to understand it
You grab and you tear
Here
Love is a currency
I will pay with my heart
Then inflate to bankruptcy
I was nothing special to you
Just another tourist
Like the dozens and other hundreds
And you care about them
But not for them
Just as you do not care for me
You value what you receive
And how much you can grasp
But give newspaper to blind beggars
And insults to the depressed deaf
You care not for what you pass around
Only that what comes back to you is what you desire
So I am spent
Spun around
Turned away
And asked to leave
And you welcome your next tourist.
Jun 16, 2015
Jun 16, 2015 at 1:16 PM UTC
It is just
blood soaked shields
wedged together
to ensure protection.
Inside there is an eye
with a yellow iris
yellow because it is sick
sick of the world
and sick of seeing it.
Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 2:00 PM UTC
cup of poison rage
pint of verdant, bleeding tears
and pinch of fever
Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 1:57 PM UTC
To die of fire and born of ashes
how strange it must be
to be destroyed
by that which creates you
of course a woman is rendered as herself
by the ideas within her head
and decimated
by her own thoughts
and a man is rendered as himself
by the beating of his heart
and dismantled
by his heated blood
though neither man nor woman return from their destruction
I wonder if the death of the fire bird
is painful
does it know it will be reborn?
would this lessen the pain?
I would envy a man who was reborn again and again
but not a man who thought he died every time
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 9:29 AM UTC
I move forward to ignore the past
I learned from history in my mind
I did not want to express yesterdays
I ask you
I plead with you
don’t taint this ground
I know the past is colored scarlet
and you will drench the floor in your blood
I am fragile, but you break like time
I climb, but now look to this pit
I am the pit of a pit on the ground, and you wander
I step once
then step again
but it is you who should watch your feet
because I am an orchard
an orchard of mines
Dec 3, 2014
Dec 3, 2014 at 4:58 PM UTC
It has become my norm to push people away
because somewhere along the road
I found it was easier to shove people aside
than give them a chance
It's easier to hang up her call
than watch her drift to sleep.
It's easier to tell him I have work
than turn to face him.
It's easier to walk away from them
than sit there worrying about hurting them and them hurting me.
It's easier to sleep at night
knowing I drove them away
instead of the other way around
It's easier to know I'm the one who ended it
Because it's easier to hurt someone else
before that person has the chance to hurt me.
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 4:04 PM UTC
Frigidity gnaws dully
like an outcast lion
scavenging on the bones
of its former pride.
Creeping nefariously,
it claws through any gap it can find,
sliding and slithering
through a hole in a fence:
a rabid dog.
It is thick, viscous and voracious
like some sort of anti-magma,
having all the properties
of a volcano’s foaming mucus
only lacking heat.
There is no frozen core,
as the whole is so consumed
with horrid chill,
the edges are no warmer
than the deepest depths.
Ice holds the same burning power as fire.
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 11:01 AM UTC
cardinal
the omnipresence of a forest
a melody
blush
the laughter of a child
a spirit
flame
the rage of a star
a supernova
wine
the ground of a glass
a mainstay
glow
the warmth of a firefly
a comfort
crimson
the gore of a war
a fighter
coral
the haven of a lionfish
a protector
rose
the circlet of a nymph
a friend
grey
the wish of a girl
a mask
to hide
the truth of an eye
a magnificence
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 11:33 AM UTC
I see her eyes
they are curious
raw
and enormously round
like the heart of an water lily
the petals never close
they risk desolation
destruction by the tempest’s wrath
they have felt the frigid hail before
how they know its bitter sting
but they despise ignorance
for what is surviving safety
if beyond lays living hell?
if one flower blooms
the maelstrom becomes worth fighting
so they gladly withstand hurricanes
giving those thrown into this gale
a remedy
to bring the dying back to life
I see her eyes
they are dark
enigmatic
of burnt umber
like the ashes of the phoenix star
the dust of the dead
compressing and contorting
their carnage reaches distant worlds
as a glimmer amid the twilight
to them, this is worth the pain
I can see them rupture, crack, and fade
they burn
they rise from peace
to welcome the chaos of ignition
In looking at her
my surroundings blur to grey
the grey of colors so confused they mix to absolute equilibrium
and so I see only her eyes
but that is all I need
to perceive her
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 11:32 AM UTC
A photograph
pries a velvet kaleidoscope
from living
like flesh parting bone
ripped and torn
by the ravenous jaws of a great lioness
it snaps a fluid stream
with no beginning
no end
it chops to a point
which cannot flutter
because it has no wings
it is only an end
less than ephemeral
meaningless
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 2:13 PM UTC