here are some things you just can't shake....
there are little haunts inside your soul.
mine come in dreams,
and little things,
like shoes, and westerns, and rabbit holes.
Oct 11, 2011
Oct 11, 2011 at 3:13 AM UTC
contorted mentality
wrapped in something soft
left for dead
in that little
green dumpster out back.
growth stunted by
that gentle smothering.
smothered with a pleasure
that was needed but
not given out of mutuality.
you’re enjoyment went
no deeper
than a short-lived purge
and that happy
reintroduction.
nothing more,
nothing less.
Oct 11, 2011
Oct 11, 2011 at 3:12 AM UTC
passionless eyes.
when was all the life smothered out?
was it when you were let go,
or when you chose to leave?
was it when that black shadow
crossed your eyes that
memorable night
or when that same night
was etched into your skin
forever.
was it the blood trickling out,
that took your passion with it,
or the tears that washed
that last glint of light away.
oh how I wish
I could have seen them
when they shone.
Oct 11, 2011
Oct 11, 2011 at 3:11 AM UTC
visions of you haunt me.
slide under my fingertips.
smother my insatiable hunger.
honey dripping through its sift,
caught by over-zealous hands.
scorned, you only want what
settles unrecognizable thirst.
it burns your eyes,
it dries the petals on your lips.
Oct 11, 2011
Oct 11, 2011 at 3:10 AM UTC
cold air is colder against bare flesh.
swept over with serenity.
alone.
these worldly things have lost their grasp.
cold air grasps.
cold burns.
that sound when iced wind hits the glass
sends a chill down a covered spine
cold in thought
cold against flesh
left alone in dark divine.
doubt is distant
but closely cold
a chill in warmth and desire.
a clouded bowl
of clouded ice
a frozen-over fire.
These things are cold
and cold they stay
no heat has found its home
lost in air
futilely grown
a never ceasing mire.
Oct 11, 2011
Oct 11, 2011 at 3:10 AM UTC
a foreign feeling migrates in.
in with the winter winds
it comes.
ready.
raw.
musters strength.
guiltily building up.
it move from the
core of being
outwards.
pulses like liquid heat
poisons the blood
swallows whole
its innocent host.
runs rampant
exposure in spurts.
unwanted attention.
shameful movements.
anger and hate.
anger and hate.
rage.
Oct 11, 2011
Oct 11, 2011 at 3:09 AM UTC
I am not a dog to be scolded and rewarded.
I do not bark when asked to speak.
I am not a dog.
therefore
I am not a *****
Oct 11, 2011
Oct 11, 2011 at 3:08 AM UTC
it was a movement.
one of a brother,
a mother,
a father.
but not a movement
of a lover.
the way your lips
so gently brushed mine
was not beautiful.
the delicacy was displaced.
in traveled the nonchalance.
they call it a peck.
It swayed like a shock wave.
such a minute movement.
shockingly appalling.
shockingly chaotic.
there was
no love.
no embrace.
no heat.
but rather the
indecisive movement.
of the cold
and the ashamed.
Oct 11, 2011
Oct 11, 2011 at 3:07 AM UTC
Slowly
Revolutions
Loss of the momentary flickering
an inescapable fleeting of infeasibility
spun.
These beautiful colors
Become one beautiful web
Smashing into those hurt eyes
With every pulse, movement
Slow grey spin-spun twist-turn
familiarities modify
With every revolution.
Distortion in the most striking.
potential is no contest
confusion is adjustable when
the view falls
and sees all of those wonders
from the bottom up.
Haphazard,
Those blurs whisper that
The wind tells no lie
When it convinces a soul
To forgot what it feels like
To stand solid
Spun.
Oct 11, 2011
Oct 11, 2011 at 3:05 AM UTC
No light penetrates
The overwhelming warning
Of the Heavens,
A warning of brokenness
That cannot be avoided,
A cool quietness smothers the trees,
An eerie implication.
Halted are the simple treks for survival.
Forgotten holes of yesterday reopened.
As the clouds resurrect,
A thankful calm washes away
The fear of the unknown.
Fear comes before growth and
Preparedness need not be remembered.
With the rain comes baptism,
With the storm comes renewal.
Oct 11, 2011
Oct 11, 2011 at 3:04 AM UTC