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As I came to the edge of the woods,
Thrush music—hark!
Now if it was dusk outside,
Inside it was dark.

Too dark in the woods for a bird
By sleight of wing
To better its perch for the night,
Though it still could sing.

The last of the light of the sun
That had died in the west
Still lived for one song more
In a thrush’s breast.

Far in the pillared dark
Thrush music went—
Almost like a call to come in
To the dark and lament.

But no, I was out for stars;
I would not come in.
I meant not even if asked;
And I hadn’t been.
 Feb 2016 Chalsey Wilder
Aseh
what will happen
to the rooms I filled with clothes and books
and shoes and plans and bodies?
And where will I keep
my unchecked desire for love
within the folds of this fierce
barren
town?
A classic way of how to talk
The criticism on how you walk
The words you use everyday
Moulded like a piece of clay

What you wear and where you reside
When you laugh, when you cry
Whether you're rich or ever so poor
Whether you play and whether you score

Perfection is a concept made to scare
Made to question those that dare
Dare to do not what their told
Dare to break the dreaded mould...
I hate being someone that I'm not!
Terrible, treacherous
Odor of past,
Clings to my shadow
And follows me fast.

Follows me fast so
Swift I must run.
But running, I slip
On a puddle of ***.

Puddles of ***?
It should've been whiskey.
The flavor of risk
Does more than just fit me.

I slip and I slide
And glide with a pain,
A pain now acquainted
With alcohol stains.

Alcohol stains don't
Pester me much.
The color of bleach
Delivers a rush.

So faint and so white.
And coating my throat.
Not reaching my blood
Since I always choke.

Wrists are abused with
Tools in the shed.
Nothing to lose,
I be playing with death.
I use to like being alone
Being free to do things on my own
When I didn't have any friends
I didn't try too hard to pretend
That I didn't need acceptance

I was very introverted
When my past was deserted
There was so much I wanted to do
But, then I look over and saw you
You taught me how to be brave
When I wanted to escape from yesterday
You helped me see another day

Yes, my dear friend you taught me
The things I didn't hear, or see
Thanks to you, I no longer wanted to be alone
I'm getting tired of living inside my zone
You always told me I'm not a child
So, for now on I'm grown.
A poem for a very special friend.
 Jan 2016 Chalsey Wilder
AK
.
 Jan 2016 Chalsey Wilder
AK
.
every morning,
you write your name on my lips.

fresh from the shower,
eternal record of a return address.
 Jan 2016 Chalsey Wilder
umi kara
i slept with scissors on my bed
just to see.
to wake up in a new cut.
just to see
if danger is a true concept
if a surprise is something real.

i did sleep with scissors on my bed
because i have a tendency to move around a lot;
just to see
if the blade would try to kiss my rib
to quiet me down;

just to see
if fire really burns;
just to see
if what runs inside my veins
hasn't disappeared yet.
what i saw
was that it is better to sleep with scissors
than to wake up by my own.
we are all agates
washed and polished by waves
on this mortal beach
Senryu
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