My lower lip trembles,
                
                  tears threaten me,

                         they're going to do it,

                                     they'll drown me.

But they fall,      

          as tears always do,          

               and I must try so hard                  

                      not to scream out loud.          

But, to my dismay,          

      I still can't stop it        

             from ripping madly                        

                      out of my throat.  

Like a knife      

       being wrenched,              

                 out of my bleeding,                    

                       betrayal battered back .

Amber, falling down,
Leaves, cascading to the ground,
A tree stands naked

Love is not pink.
It is is not the squeals of a little girl,
of a little baby whining in the cradle.
Not pearls round your neck
or a flower blooming in your soft, soft hair,

Love is not white.
Not the song of an angel,
of the innocent beauty of ethereal light.
Not the heavenly singing from above,
or a dance in tutus around a swan's passing,


Love is not black.
Not the harsh, gritty sadness,
of an age old fire's remnants.
Not the evil darkness lurking,
or a lie that breaks down the walls of the living,

Love is not purple.
Not the mystery of a simple mind,
of death's lullaby to sing you to sleep.
Not the murky depths of an old sea,
or a wicked distortion of concrete old rock.


Love is red.
Love is passion, fire,
it is a great, great inferno,
it crumbles your life to ash,
Love is the taste of cherry red lips,
of a dress which shimmies down your shape,
of everything just coming together like strings on a piece of fabric,


Love is red.

Poem

In the navy of the night,
you prowl
In the light of the moon's soft gaze,
you smile.

With my heart in your hands,
you wash them of the blood,
as I taste the saccharine taste of your lips,
our love everlasting through the twilight.

At the hour of the witch,
I scream,
At the season of cold,
I dream.

While I try not to cry through my lashes,
I know I must still be strong for this love,
though I wish I could fall into you,
our love never ending this night.

If only it was more than dreams,
for my heart to never rip its seams,
And for your eyes to hold mine to dear,
mouth to whisper sweetness in my ear.

For when my gaze sees you,
for you to hold mine too,
And when my heart is aching,
our love could be just in the making.

I can feel my wrist,
feel the coarse, scarred sandpaper scars,
breaking down my soul

It was the haunting cries,
the wails of children,
of fires burning out the nooses,
tied around their necks

Then it was the darkness,
the sense of nothingness,
but just a pit of pity,
a black hole of numbing despair

Death was coming now,
its claws dragging across
the thin fabric of life,
unravelling each tearful thread