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Wesley A Nov 2014
I left money on the table
It was more than I was worth
Scrawled a note
Crawled into bed
And fell into a dream so dark
I couldn't remember
Above my empty body I rose
Floated through the walls of my room
Towards the blackness of a sky polluted by city lights
The rain fell gently through me as I traveled
Across places I had never seen
And faces I had never been
Conversation’s fragments raked across my feet
But I was afraid to look down
Even when I heard my name
I was still afraid
For it was not love with which it was spoken
The name was a curse
Spat from the lips
Like venom from the ill
On I drifted
Towards a sun that would never shine
Searching for a moon I’d never find
Warmth seeped from my ears
From the gaping hole in my chest
From beneath my fingernails
Life’s blood, or was it tears
Somewhere in the stillness of the night
I heard myself still crying
And knew I had not died
My eyes opened with a searing flash of pain
Rays of light pouring through my windows
Stabbing into the recesses of my skull
Into my tainted soul
I am awake
But for this life of me I cannot understand why
Wesley A Nov 2014
For the very first time,
I cried tears of joy..
Though I have wept many times,
my life a melancholy struggle
against the demons that bind me to it,
never have my tears sprung from such ecstasy
These eyes glistened as I gazed down
upon your ethereal countenance.
Twin mirrors reflecting your own happy tears ad infintum.
as you looked up at me
cradled in arms that were crafted to hold
only your exquisite frame.
When that song began I found myself unable to breath.
It did not matter, for you are all the life I need.
All I will ever need.
Silent words subtlety mouthed by the candle's flickering light
and each one resonating within the universe of my soul.
A universe that revolves around the angel
who rests her head on my pillow.
And sings to me with the beauty of her thoughts.
What is love? Now I know the meaning.
You are my all, and I am always yours.
I love you now, and when the sun crashes down upon this world,
when the trappings of this life have released our spirits into the essence.
I will love you still.
Wesley A Nov 2014
My only power is my greatest weakness
Although I hide my pain inside this fragile fortress
I give myself completely to anyone and everyone
Who come strolling down the path into my heart.
Past the blindness of the gargoyles that I built
To watch over all that makes me vulnerable.
Through the walls of clay that I have erected
To protect myself from hurting.
Walls that crumble in the
Face of the simplest kindness
whether or not it is real or perceived.
If my face was made of stone and my insides
Were as Cold as I tell myself that other peoples’ are not
I would be protected from all
Of the earthshattering heartbreak that
Is always one step away from removing the ground
From beneath my feet and plunging me
Down into the chasm of despair.
That bleak abyss where my only comfort
Is the story that I tell myself every day,
The lie I must choose to believe in order to survive.
That those who I have given the fragments of myself to
Will hold them and cherish them,
And use them to rebuild me at the top of the cliff
Instead of raining them down
onto my bowed head and broken spirit.
As if I were a martyr and they my executioners.
I love too much and I love to easily
I am never afraid to take a leap of faith
Until it is too late and I reach the other side
Of this chasm to find that there is nothing there
No friendship, no gratitude,
No understanding,
No help
No place to rest my head or
Friend to help me shoulder my burden
When this boulder I carry
Begins to crush me between the weight
Of loneliness and the hardness of my hopeless thoughts.
Again and again I cry out for comfort,
But the echo of my pleas, returning to my ears as a mockery
Is the only comfort that I find.
So I continue pretending that the voice I hear
Is not my own and the things I tell myself
To keep me going are words ringing
Out from a stranger in a distant land
Where friendship has meaning and hope is alive
And there is someone there who is willing
To share, their heartache with me
In return for becoming
A tree I can lean on.
A place to shelter myself in the time of storm
Wesley A Nov 2014
Red brick castles belch murderous crows into the sky,
Raining deadly ash on bowed heads and hunched shoulders,
Smoke-hued birds of prey swooping towards cobbled streets
Where pale-faced and haunted creatures scurry
And scrabble in the mud of their toils

The click-clack of wheels and hooves a hammering drone
Drown the cries of infants starving in gutters filled with detritus

Oh great city, that ****** hands have wrought.
This monument to sewage and filth.
A bustling metropolis with a heart of ruin,
The lives of your denizens hide the face of your tomb.

Countless weary feet traverse your wicked alleys
And cold chambers, treading over the rotting corpses
Of those lost souls sacrificed to construct you.

Woe is man, who has built this dark god,
To slave away his days in ******* of,
Only to be consumed by this monster
When the burden of his labor has broken him,
And he finally falls below.
Wesley A Nov 2014
Insecurity is a parasite that devours our best intentions.
If I could only truly give myself to you...
But I cannot, the pain in my heart is so much
that to be honest with myself hurts me more than I can bare.
As if the entire world is bent over my back,
and if I let up for a single moment then I've let you down.
Why do I feel such pressure,
the only one that cares?
Perhaps I was not meant to be?
But even life brought forth from a mistake
deserves a chance to sprout and stretch its wings…
yet my wings remain broken and refuse to unfold,
so I'm falling, with my eyes closed
waiting for an end to the shame that defines who I am.
Wesley A Nov 2014
The soul is the fire of the body,
burning through its small supply of fuel
in search of the unattainable.
Hunting, roving above the dark waters
and rolling fields of its mother.
Faster and brighter the flame glows.
From time to time it mingles with the light of others
until the shadows begin to grow colder
and reach out to ensconce
that which was once so full of life.
Now drained into a colorless husk.
Ash to be blown in the wind.

— The End —