I’ve been torn down when lovers’
knowledge told me not to be protected from
my faithless heart frame. It tells me that
it’s not built to last and was
never true anyway.
All these times that I knew in facing the mirror
every thought turned into that light, shifting
moments to disclose the deeper meaning of
just being here. Knowing this, holding myself in an
act of reconciliation, that part of me burnt out
my soul, bound to exile, dangling from me, is my
own self esteem. /Prohibited. No one whose presence
I feel can forcefully lift it back in, this heavy it’s my burden.
Nothing but true unadulterated love can
hold me, if only for the fragment it takes to
relieve my distrust, of anything, of all that is able
to console me. Then it passes and barely leaves
me only the memory.
© April 16th, 2015
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 6:41 PM UTC
There is a place in time one
wishes happy endings to arise, but will
not see, that it is meant to
last. I want love but don’t expect
any lasting effect. Almost always, one
falls out, though it is not impossible. I see the
faces, the eyes which show the
experiences. I see more in the soul,
I know they can tell I search.
Maybe, when I see that light, I will
be able to say, discern a path given
to last to the end. But I can’t until
I’ve searched long enough, given
enough of myself to have earned a respect
from life, the cosmos, to take away any
doubt, and let me sway to the eternity of
love. Tonight, I just want to feel thrill, behold
it how I feel it in my soul, no matter how
contrived. I see a way beyond the reflection; I look
into my eyes, see whole worlds within. I wait
till someone, finally, can see mine.
© 2004
Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 9:46 PM UTC
Purple hair, purple jewellery, and clothes.
Purple everything. The cross between male
and female. Mixed in a painting *** with dried up brush.
The coloured high of the ultimate low, for me.
It has caused me to see, beyond
my own yearnings and see that of more deeply
penetrating needs. Another living in my
soul. Cruel to me. One I couldn’t have fathomed had
I not fallen, into the dark. To see, to
need the pain and crush the happy thoughts.
Crave purple things above all. Crave a taste bitter
only sleep too long can create. Any creation is
hailed, heckled as the act of treason. How dare
you feel anything constructive?! And hide in
a corner till it’s gone. Till the thoughts vapor into
thin air and nothing is left but empty blackness.
Stand up, failing at first two attempts, and gain the
strength to not be ridiculed a third. Falling forward,
hanging in mid air. The wood hits the ribs, and sharp
pain adds to the blunt. The thumping in the words,
the washing of blood in the ears. The whinnying noise, tone
of loneliness reaffirming this connection cut off
felt from birth on. Never able to join the ranks of the
careless. Whether one lives or dies. Afraid to live, stuck
behind a thick glass wall. Alienation from birth, being
addicted to the dark. With purple hue. Purple ledged
in the deep of my soul. Purgatory keeps a flame to warm my
naked arms and legs. Huddled in the moist cold of
the hidden part of the mind. The most fundamental. Foundation
to build a life upon. Not fully corroded but hole ridden and
making for a perfect tomb. When life ends and you are
left with the colour of both male and female the same. Colour
of sadness.
© 2004
Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 9:44 PM UTC
Sadness comes with me to you, and I speak the
words in my mind as I cannot say
them to you. Even as my blue grey crosses with
your brown, the emptiness fills my subconscious, as
your unawareness of not knowing penetrates; the drowning of
show and tell suffocates, inside me. Unable I am to satiate
my colours for the map, I drew for you lays unread, in the
dark on your desk. Inside my eyes, unshed tears are
burning, for their way to come out, as it aches and takes
the fabric of skin with them to reveal a shallowed
passion. I wonder, if I should make an end to it, and once
and for all be done with this…
But the look in your eyes, however empty of
apperception pervade into intuitive truth, though deep words
are few. I had not realized, been focusing on
the wrong things all along. So I bid, expand your
vocabulary on me, I will show you the wealth of the vast
universes they can reveal. Into your world they will bleed, as I will
read your little star sign book; and with the way in
which you devour written words, open up your mind and take
mine into it. Give me a reason to look into your
unsuspecting eyes, with a sincerity that is blind.
© 2005
Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 9:37 PM UTC
A strange thought in a night which
breaks with the loneliness come forth
from togetherness, one ness. A cosmos of a
fragmentary manifestation, split into countless
mirror shards, of which one shoots through my
heart. In nocturnal days and illuminating darknesses
finally a depth was found again which
seemed so unacquired; that love could not be far
away, but here, waiting to dawn.
Hearts that steal and souls who rob, people
of their glee. In between that all sat still, an island,
by choice untouched with eager hands. For he
had not sought them out himself. But one day, with a silence
which could be so roaring and deceiving, a frail
soul, that made overtures to a burning devil was set
aflame herself. Yet, she is afraid now to be
extinguished before she could have raged. When her
eyes tell what her mouth cannot; his and that
dreadful gentle look, not knowing, and lips seeking out
a heart that bleeds. But a small tear, but one which
will pull open and gush, tears of both sadness and
joy, that a not discussed secret could stir
her, and at the same time surely could affirm, that her heart
hadn’t died down, but felt just as much as a
flower which only just bloomed.
© 2005
Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 9:34 PM UTC
Are you there to please me? In our unchangeable
goodbyes, or outside them you can’t wash away my
ache, of when I am with you or I am
without.
The smile through your shades, in the
sun, flickering to the pain of moments coming to be;
an absence of you and a guess, but only
scratching the surface of what I am
seeing is filling in my heart till its edges, yet unfulfilled; what a
certain other couldn’t do for me. Make me
stop thinking and talking, merely looking
at the bursts in your eyes, the home with you, I feel estranged and
arriving at times when you look at me, capture
my heart. Through glass of the mind and
glasses for your eyes you keep me as your arms reach
to hold onto me, cling to me. Inhaling my scent and
kissing my hair, in the intense of intently. In the
sun today, saying our repeated goodbye, the truth felt as if it
was nothing I could say, nothing you couldn’t know, yet
only the surface was scratched, but still I hope you
know I ache more before watching you leave.
2005
Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 9:32 PM UTC
Did he take his
wrists? First the right, then
the left? Because it was
easier to make the
last incision? What made him
make this decision? Something from
inside bartered for his sanity?
Never the external influences who
keep their thoughts to
themselves. What made him
decide to take the risk? It’s never
too late to see; how lovely things
could be. When I feel the
blood that pumps through
them, I would – I could never take
my own. I feel it too painful in
thought, too precious
to be. When I rub on my wrists I
think of him. How could one try to
take his own life? I ask me.
© 2005
Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 9:30 PM UTC
On my way down, crashing into the earth, the soil
feels so hard. There’s no more grace in my
form unfolding, the sun has made
me a passive fool to burn. My words
are empty, my beauty’s
fading with the light which brings out the flaws. Once, I
was at my height, I could see the way down and I
tumbled over.
I’ve no hopes
for him, for I know he
doesn’t want me. One solitary
wave doesn’t erase words unsaid. I don’t
want to care, I don’t want to feel shoved aside and
forgotten. I see how love works
and she doesn’t
bend to me. I’ve no
salvation once the expectation and perfection has
been declared. All the ride up meant is I’ll
come down again.
© September 2004
Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 9:26 PM UTC
My blood creeps through my head, in reverie.
I was left unspoken to and there are things I couldn’t say,
how this was I could not talk with whom
it mattered, at least to whom I thought
it did. And purging through the sand in the hourglass, the
grains start to feel like though they roughen up
my skin, it remains untouched by you. And it bleeds
on the inside, as I have my head and heart waiting for
reply. But it won’t come. How silence can unpierce
through me like an ethereal needle cushion. Am I not worth
it, have I left your mind now more than I have before? For the
screen I look and sit, patience I am burning, like
long incense sticks, but alas, my room’s ceiling has not
the height to hold the scent imprisoned above me, and it
escapes, with light smoke spiraling down the stairwell, it
is devoid of all serenity bringing quality. Still I keep myself
clean, from the foul smell of darkness, and maintain my artificial
scent, longing to break the concentration that I need to
stay calm over this. Though in almost more time I feel it become
more useless. I am not built for the speechless weight of others; I
wish you’d just come talk to me.
© 2004
Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 9:23 PM UTC
We know which sacrifices what we believe in brings
So we will sit together amongst the trees to celebrate, the destruction and the fluster of
All this released creativity. So we know that only with standing together
We can own the future that comes to us, something we fought tooth and nail
To stand for, to gather for and burn our empires.
On the pyres of our ruined privilege we cry. Our holy times,
They have come and gone. In the emptiness we find our souls again and
Reclaim the soil that was born from all our forbearers together. And we know that
We own whatever will comes fleeting toward us.
In our clenched fists we hold hope and crush
The remains of past empires and privileges.
© 24 November 2013
Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 9:19 PM UTC