Ask of the dagger I hurled at the beast across the room
Its wicked howl vibrating about my being
as it buried its fangs in its own dull heart
Ask of the white stained carcass wrapped in charcoal blood

I could talk of the glorious cliff and the reluctant child
seduced by the oblivion of the world below
But that’s hardly the tragedy I wish
to engrave on the stone made soley for my love's corpse

What of the silent repression of the inevitable sea;
its claws in your throat, its chains pulling you under
The only thing to come out: mere remnants of bubbles
embodying the muffled screams of the dead

I could talk of a caged bird
fantasising the sky being pure definition of freedom
What of its heartless darks that see and unsee the starving stars
What of the sadist winds separating
sons from mothers from daughters from fathers;
hearing and unhearing their pleas

Ask of the endless nights of my quiet talks with the moon
Its wicked words reeking with hope,
blooming and wilting around the night
Ask of the hollow flaw left untouched in the middle of the sky
Light extends her arms and creeps in,
she asks for help but we’re all asleep

I could talk of sleepless nights and lazy days—
vivid afternoons curling up way too fast in the dusk—
but that’s hardly a tragedy you’d like to hear
Ask of the dagger I hurled across the void
hoping to rip open another hole in the sky
so the moon would not be lonely when I finally went to sleep
but it never was lonely, no thanks to my blade

What of the silver blade
He shot for the sky but but fell in love with the moon
kissing open her jagged lips- and banishing away
moonlight bleeds out the scarred crescent
Ask for I'll tell you the stories composed with finest of runes

Like when the girl befriended the beast
not for its arousing shine that felt like velvet on the cobblestone dark
but the scars that she, so lovingly, drew on its body
matching every curve - every bruise - to her own
so painful yet hardly at all, so visible yet not in the least
It was the most beautiful tragedy I had ever seen

Night's cold, mate.
I can feel it on the misty glass,
sense it in my shivering breaths
Please scoot closer, I feel so small
the sky outsides whispers her song
I swear the notes are breaking these walls
tell me you too hear them cracking
Tell me this roof is splitting asunder
for if not--

I swear I am, mate
I feel the tune zip open my chest,
sense it banging at my bare ribs
please hold tight, I feel so eternal
these cold winds are creeping in
I swear these blankets are empty clouds
tell me you too hear them stars roaring
tell me this quiet hasn't begun screaming
for if not--

something has, mate

something has to for I swear someone's playing my vessels,
tell me you hear my cry, not a flute weeping,
swear these trembling fingers do not play the piano;
tell me, mate, tell me you hear no sound,
tell me there are no trumpets gnawing at my bones
tell me the gusts don't hit like drums, tell me, tell me

what are you saying,
why do you sound like a dreamy harp,
hold me, here, stab this flesh, scream out, I need not this euphony,
tell me, mate, tell me you're screaming not playing a violin,
cover me, here, tear at this skin, don't sing me to sleep for I swear
these walls are falling, tell me you too can feel them around,
why do you dig around my lungs, why does my breathing
sound like bells, what are you doing pulling at my heart,

tell me, mate, tell me I am not caged in this sky,

tell me, tell me I am not one in the night, why am I burning,
where are my lungs, tell me you too hear this melody laughing
tell me I spit out shrieks not some dancing musical waves,
what are you doing, engraving me with blades, what are you doing
why are you ripping apart my heart, where did the winds
take all my breaths, tell me the window didn't shatter,
tell me I am not one in the shards, why won't these chains choke,
what is this hollow my chest has become,
***** me, wake me, here, rip open this skull, tell me there's no light, where is the moon, where did the dark go, where did the dark go  
what are all these suns for, tell me you hear me,
tell me you hear me, tell me you hear me scream,
tell me you hear no music, tell me you--


Night's cold, mate.
moon's still here, you need not run
don't go back under the bed,
I need you here

Come over, baby girl, come over
Let’s play with your barbie doll
I know she’s too old for her school
But don’t blame her, love, not her
She was made a desire not a child
Come over, baby girl, come over
Sing with me the orchard song

Come over, baby girl, come over
Let’s put your barbie down to sleep
I know her crib’s under the rubble
But grass makes this bomb shell soft
Lay her down, love, close her eyes
Come over, baby girl, come over
Sing with me the song of dawn

Come over, baby girl, come over
Hold my hand, don’t you cry again
I know mother’s not here tonight
But her and baba loved your smile
This lonely, love, lasts only till dawn
Come over, baby girl, come over
Sing with me our grandma’s song

Come over, baby girl, come over
Let’s not think of home or this mess
I know the strict lady, she scared you
But she has a home, some friends
she'll never let your stomach growl
Come over, baby girl, come over
Sing, love, night too needs a lullaby

Come over, baby girl, come over
Let’s not weep for your barbie doll
I know she’s too young for a trade
But man said her looks make up for age
lovely enough for a month's worth grains
Come over, baby girl, come over
Sing, for tomorrow I'll be far away

Come over, baby girl, come over
Hold on to me and your barbie doll
I know it’s ugly, take this bomb shell
Plant in a rose, love, watch it grow
We’ll be there, you won’t be alone
Come over, baby girl, come over
Sing, for soon we'll be on our ways

lightening runs down my being
hair waking up from a deep slumber
and my skin strangely alive
I shiver with a lovely rhythm
the way clouds do on cold, dry days

tongue moving mutely, my lips emit words
as empty as crumbled up papers themselves
a drizzle, cut, perhaps some windy sprinkle
cut, sunshine, cut, pour, cut, gusts, cut
dry, still, silent air; she whispers to me

I freeze to the sky, eyes stuck over a void
no verses, no words, not even a sigh
I melt to ground, as silent as the moon itself,
but moon needs no words to write poetry
I do, my silence isn't euphony, I don't emit hope
words don't bow themselves before me
I do before them, none of me matters

I'm just my words. I am an old parchment
that was too full to be filled with words.
I roam around with the wind, stepped on by birds.
gone on unwritten, unheard, unseen
lightening running down my body
I tremble, still as stone, empty as a corpse.

Flower does steal hearts
but I wonder how the petals feel
wonder if they enjoy their lovely imprisonment
if they ever think of breaking free
when a flower dies it's all but humanly
does not laugh one day, still the other
does not walk down the road unsure of reaching home

death's patient like that
it too enjoys a good show before taking a shot
too likes to play before gulping down its food
first the sepals turn yellow
then mustard like sunlight through dusty glass
then the blush starts to fade
and petals begin to wither
like an old woman, her pretty face sleeping
blanketing them, the tired leaves curl up
waiting for wind to wash 'em away

I wonder if they actually die
if freedom's life, I wonder if they've just been born
I pluck a sunflower and I pull at it wings
I collect all and hand them to the wind
tell her to be gentle, she promises, relieved
I bid them a goodbye, they're too shocked to reply
so I watch as the wingless birds soar around the sky
yes, soon the wind will tire and let them fall
yes, they'll settle down and rot in the dirt or drown in sea
but they'd have rotten anyway

yes the last remnants of their existence
will depart with the gusts but they always did
so I tell the plant her babies are finally free
I don't see her smile, I don't need to
I never saw her cry for her flowers
quietly she'd let go, a little to serenely
as morning breeze took their corpses away

I never was a fan of flowers anyway--
I see them everywhere, in castles, in glass jars
in gardens and stone mansions, pressed in books,
taped on windows, tied in hair, ever so pretty, ever so.
washed and clothed and jewelled and caged
Someone shouts at me from the street
saying their kite just fell on my roof; if I could return
I take in their dusty profiles, and ragged clothes
faces lit by the splendid smiling suns--
I think my petals have settled down.