My lover's dead
and I like him better that way.
When he was by my side,
I did not know what to say
as my heart was always
in a horrid, constant state
of incomprehensible joy,
my emotions so great,
they overtook my mind,
and all I could do
was let myself be loved
and sigh graciously in lieu.
My lover's dead,
but he still haunts my mind.
He hides silently, waiting
in every place I can find,
pulling me to him
with invisible strings
so he can entrap me in the felicity
that young love brings.
But I am tired, so tired,
of being in love,
of the pain that overtakes me
when I am floating above
in blessed happiness,
with him as my wings
waiting to fall,
because love is a capricious thing.
Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 8:44 PM UTC
The yellow bird in its golden cage sings
to me, in the depths of the night, while I
raise my palm to my lips and kiss
it, pretending I were loved;
though my sorry heart knows I am
not, and the flightless canary does too--
its singing metamorphs into wailing as
the amber stars sink in the sky.
The darkness nibbles
on their ivory light, and my warmth
subsides to ice.
Sep 18, 2013
Sep 18, 2013 at 12:02 AM UTC
The fig tree shrivels and bends under my weight.
My fingers move nimbly, but not enough --
for the branches I cling to are no more than ash,
and the gold in my pockets turn into stone.
My hands bare, scraped ******
burnt red, cinder black.
The ground embraces me
like an old
friend.
Sep 4, 2013
Sep 4, 2013 at 12:00 AM UTC
beautiful boy
with your magical hands
you leave trails of gold
on the surfaces you skim
let me be
so blessed to be
caressed by your enchanted fingers.
Aug 31, 2013
Aug 31, 2013 at 10:45 PM UTC
I've felt worse
than the misery you lay
with your hands.
so come to me,
dark angel,
envelop me
in tenderness.
go, catch
my skin on fire
I swear I've felt worse.
Aug 31, 2013
Aug 31, 2013 at 6:50 PM UTC
If the sun were to somehow collide
magnificently
with the Earth,
as if propelled by some
unseen, unstoppable force
of formidable gravity, I wouldn't
care.
I would burn, along
with everyone else,
my ashes mixing
and diffusing with theirs.
I would feel
heat,
become
heat.
The warmth would swallow
me, or I
would swallow it,
and the flames would travel
through my veins
and down my spine
and trickle to my toes
and let me feel.
Aug 29, 2013
Aug 29, 2013 at 2:04 AM UTC
There are times when I love you
and times when I wish
that the hands of fate
could sever and incinerate
the string that wraps
around both our hearts.
Aug 24, 2013
Aug 24, 2013 at 5:48 PM UTC
there was this time in the park
a frosted, gray-misted November
me, myself
on the brown benches
my head seemed forever tilted
to the right
my head didn't know
but my heart knew
I was looking for a yellow spark
hidden in the crowd of wispy passerbys
I was waiting
for you.
it seems silly when i think about it
when I pause and force
my body to stop, halt
freeze, think rationally
it's terrible to be the only one
who leaves their entrails everywhere
nothing will come out
when I squeeze my heart anymore
I have this amazing way
of hurting myself
more than I need to be hurt
Aug 24, 2013
Aug 24, 2013 at 2:56 PM UTC
the birds sing from my backyard
and the morning sun hits my window at an angle,
effusing its gold-tinted rays into the glowing room
i dig deeper for the warmth
beneath the bed covers.
moments like these, i think of you.
Aug 24, 2013
Aug 24, 2013 at 2:36 AM UTC
I know what it means now
to love;
it kind of emanates from the core
somehow, somewhere
and makes my heart feel heavy,
but also warm, blown-up,
like it's expanded enough just so
that it hugs the insides of my rib cage gently.
Aug 24, 2013
Aug 24, 2013 at 2:16 AM UTC