*knotted roots scatter violently from the stump of winter's barren tree
permeating frost grips each wilting branch, a blanket of sickness
only the crows that bore the blackest of feathers visit and admire it
for they commend the tree as it evades death's charcoal robes
they themselves have been plagued with the terminal numbing
and are perplexed by the grit of their natural friend
their companion is dying, from the inside out, as veins begin to clot
yet, within months, the tree will support families of robins and finches
dawning a thick coat of delicious apples and stunning leaves
as caterpillars create plated cocoons along sturdy bark
blossoming into brilliant, alluring butterflies before the crows' sable eyes
and now the crows feathers will dampen from pearl tears amidst the beautiful scene of transformation
as they question why spring's vitality exists for their friend
while they only feel winter's cold*
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 11:01 PM UTC
A balloon cast astray by the wavering hand of a child
Who wishes to know the latex orb filled with helium can fly
But in the moment of segregation between the tips of his small fingers and the floating object's delicate string
He discovers regret for the first time in his short life
The feeling that will haunt him far past his young years and into adulthood
Yet, it's only in these latter years of his life
That he'll also discover he is envious of his abilities as a boy
For he could let go then, easier than ever
And today, he is forced to grasp his wife's bony fingers with a wrinkled hand of his own
As today, the only delicate strings in life are the wires and tubes that travel through her
In this moment he realizes he must travel back in time
To relearn how to release his balloon
As he wishes for nothing more than to let her fly in peace
But he doesn't possess the strength to watch her float away
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 1:09 PM UTC
I have used all the energy left in my gaunt body to escape this bed
Now I travel down steps that creak with noises of our past love as we wore them out by always racing each other up them to get here
Now I trudge down these stairs, alone, into the kitchen as I let the white french doors swing open to let the spring breeze join me
The wind recoils off of my pale face as I hold the cheesy tourist coffee mug that still bares your lipstick on its brim
I return back to the table where I find the morning newspaper with a date on it that reveals I haven't left the house in quite some time
And I flip to the crossword puzzle that apparently you solved many weeks ago, but the clues are hidden as I now recall the day your pen exploded in boisterous blue ink and we laughed together as we scrubbed each other's hands
Sink water splashed all over and ruined your flowing white gown, but that was no issue as we danced like it was raining and my hand creeped along your collarbone onto your shoulder, until you slapped it away because it was time for work
After brief lapses of intoxicating joy, the color in the walls and outside the windows oozes down Earth's canvas to uncover the true flavor or black and gray that surround me
It's in this return to reality that I utilize my lasts bits of sanity and avoid the sleeping pills to enter back into my slumber
I make my way back up the hollowed-out steps that are void of love, and collapse back into this bed as I drown in it's disturbingly comfortable sheets and pillows
In a few hours I'll arise again to trudge down to the kitchen and see if you're there, smiling, singing, solving strenuous puzzles with your immeasurable skill
And on the precipice of madness, the brink of lunacy, I'll whisper your name so I can stop tip-toeing along the boarder of suicide
For in these repeating nightmares, my balance has grown weary, and for moments my only desire is to join you beneath society, and into the great beyond
Goodnight
Mar 15, 2015
Mar 15, 2015 at 2:29 PM UTC
my body is boiled down to liquid
creamy with memories and sharp with tears
you take in the bitter drink to forget your woes
by digesting all of mine
i am the alcohol
all the pictures that you've thrown
every piece of clothing with seams and strands exposed
all the nights when you've gone home feeling so alone
its at this hour all those drinks have lost their trick
and you're curled up into your bed listening to the clock as it ticks
becoming fixed on its pattern and rhythm until thats all that you know
you count every second as you begin to show
your true form once outer skin sheds in a horrifying transformation
and your eyes lose their grip on liquid sanity
you've regressed to weeping child
your underdeveloped mind has made a poor decision
and your small liver cannot process this many pills
your death will come as shocking and traumatizing to many
they'll drink to forget their woes
going home yet another night alone
listening to their clock as it ticks
wishing they could hold onto you now
rather than a bottle of a temporary fix
as they count the seconds since they've heard you laugh
they look up at their ceiling fan
and feel so empty
Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 5:12 PM UTC
She was born 7 pounds 7 ounces
So clean and beautiful
Untouched from the dirt of the earth and the corruption of society
The stars shined so brightly for this one
Riveting mountain hills and green valleys beamed when they heard the news
The ocean's tides grew momentous and spilled over the beaches in joy
Nature had gained another unstained soul
The sun selfishly, but necessarily, tried to shield this one from the elements of others
The pain and the suffering
The sadness and the melancholy
The sun couldn’t see another one of earth’s babies grow up to become lifeless
For the sun would not allow the moon to take another
Another baby that belonged to the moon’s dangerous night sky
The moon reeled in these children with the promise of a sky painted with glimmering stars that could spell out your name
And brighter lights that shined adjacent to tall buildings in a buzzing city
But this was merely the moon’s treacherous trick
And the rain was in on it as well
For once the moon gained a follower
The rain would join in
Buckets of liquid depression would pour and pour from gray skies as they broke through the clouds that couldn't hold the weight of sadness anymore
Then these children would sleep while the sun bared its face and heat
And become insomniacs when the moon would reveal itself
This way, they’d be forced to look into its lonely face all night
And realize themselves how forlorn they were as well
So now they crave the color of night forever
They wish to see the color black eternally
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She was born 7 pounds 7 ounces
And was retuned back to the Earth within 17 years
The knotted roots that brought her down thanked the moon
*It was so cloudy that day
The sun was nowhere to be found*
Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 5:12 PM UTC
the dark chimney howls
with lonely winds invading
robbing innocence
i hear sadness now
listening to flames crackle
incinerating
this winter evening
it is so **** depressing
i'm disappearing
with bright amber sparks
incapsulating black death
in recurring tears
Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 9:17 PM UTC
come with thee,
into black,
forget thy purpose,
remember thy lack,
scour in loneliness ,
unforgiving winds,
lose thy dreams,
and sensation in thy limbs.
thou shalt not sleep as thou recall all of thy sin,
f'r its the strongest curse in all ye' land,
not the black death, n'r thy's measles,
rath'r its depression, the sickness of thy people,
f'r a man hath nay choice but to give in,
as he hang beneath the churches steeple,
he pens a letter about the illness, warning thy people,
as he explains it'll nev'r defer
you will nev'r be able to feel again,
as im damn'd to announce there is nay cure.
Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 9:17 PM UTC
Winter's days have become one,
Mashed together to form one dreadful night,
As my eyes become bloodshot, another gulp of pungent whiskey.
On this night when the moon's luminance reveals itself through a sheet of blank clouds,
And I'm left confined in the purgatory of a lonely bedroom, Whose once blue walls have all but burnt to black,
As they seem to broaden to maximize my desolation.
I question my existence.
I question my sanity.
I question when I will see the sun again.
For the moon may be the only soul who is as lonely as I.
But the moon seeks solace in himself,
And does not comfort me as the way you once did,
On these drunken nights where the enemy was the bottom of a fifth of Jack Daniel’s.
What took away my everything,
Was the only thing that could aid me in my resurrection.
So now I lay here,
Alone.
Questioning everything,
Scrambling to fix all that's been broken,
Building these deplorable ramshackle buildings on top of broken rubble,
With shards of glass and stinging tears as they mix with the blood on my hands,
But that doesn't matter, does it?
It will crumble, no matter how many times I try over and over again to rebuild.
This idiotic tower of sanity.
Why not just lay in this defeat?
And accept the harrowing fate that failure is upon me.
Let myself reek with self pity.
And drench myself with vomits of slurred words like,
"I miss you, I love you."
In my melancholy rage,
I'll take what is left of my body out into the cold,
In attempt to feel something real again as I dance with frozen tears in the numbing blanket of snow,
Convincing myself you will soon join me as I glare up at a flavorless, charcoal sky,
Cursing the bland stars who don't comfort the moon like they once did,
As I throw up the final chunks of the parts of my body that were still alive.
I watch in horror in front of me as they crawl out,
Like spiders as they trickle into the night with eyes wide.
For now I'm stuck here,
Glancing around for help that will never come,
Trying desperately to gather pieces of a broken puzzle with weak hands and shaking fingers.
So now, I lay here.
Bare.
On the ground.
Everything splayed out for the world to step on and see.
All my mysteries drawn out,
All the secrets are no more,
All my thoughts, read like a book.
And as my insides spill and leak out further and further from my abdomen,
The crimson splurges and spits out.
So I clench my last hope,
The few drops left of honey whiskey in a bottle,
And I close my eyes,
For one last time.
Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 12:17 PM UTC
in a perplexing, infinite universe
ridden with countless planets uninhabited
and others flourishing with unknown life
within it, remains galaxies left unreachable and unexplored
floating on a boundless sea of black
littered with scatters of scintillating stars
acting as buoys to latch on to when off course amidst a spacewalk adventure
and landmarks to identify direction when lost in the vast array of emptiness
yet, here you are
shining as brilliantly as the celestial bodies that stretch across the canvas of night
and I am lucky enough to be able to latch onto you when I am astray in my own small town
I don't need to sail across an endless space ocean in a nautical journey in search of you
your beams are close enough for me to feel your nourishing warmth at all times
so when you greet me with your exhilarating embrace
we produce a light that shines intensely enough for the whole universe to see
so as the aliens navigate through the currents of deep space
they admire passion that burns brighter than anything of its kind
as they paddle in seamless synchronization
in the direction of our path, to find where we are
small town, planet earth
and they'll settle in here, to what they see as a place that must be incredible
because of you
the compass of the universe
the love of my life
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 10:49 PM UTC
allow me to breathe in your presence
to take in your glory and intellect
to swallow whole your allure and charm
in this i'll take with me a little piece of you
and my sinful lust will be satisfied
so i can go a few more hours before i need my self-defeating fix
i smoke three packs a day of just your eyes
and drink a case solely of your taste
your name trickles off my desperate tongue ad nauseam in its crave for your warm broth of love
and my heart pumps to the beats of the angelic song that echoes with your glow
the streams and rivers of my blood flood collectively into the delta of my mind
that can only make out thoughts of where you are when you're not here
as they tell my legs to walk and walk until my feet bruise and blister to wherever that may be
because that is the place i feel impervious to death and despair
the place where the once hollow well that is my soul fills with your crystal clear drips of freedom
the place where i feel immortal
and i count the seconds as they pass
to know that paradise is real
Feb 14, 2015
Feb 14, 2015 at 3:08 PM UTC