you are so pathetic;

you cannot see your entrapment unless it is your predator's very teeth bared onto your skin

that is what she said to me as I kissed the flower's of my prisoned paradise.

Aaaaah!
Understand that every thought you had
about adults knowing what they’re doing
rapidly disappears when you become one

So even the plush ******
sat at the Romanesque desk
preaching complex reasons and threats
…because?
is hideously full of ****

When the best toy is being threatened
in kindergarten, the fattest egos flex
and either with aggression
or diseased crocodile tears
will appeal or impel.

Well. Here we are.
Men get old, even me.
But unlike cheese or wine,
it is not fine, virile,
or true.

Across the burnt field
I carry my load
I pierce the smoky expanse
my energy flags
I yearn for rest
but the burden gets heavier
I am alone
and slog for both of us.

I converse with my mind:
“Please, a small spell
to float this flood
to higher ground.
Find an ounce of push,
then I can unravel.”

A midnight exhaustion overtakes me
I lay depleted
at wits end
I pray
a surrender
concede
abandon
my self
gaunt, frail, devoid.

Before sleep an appeal
to a power greater than me
deliver me from these ashes.

so much depends
upon a green pencil
fitted snugly between
the blue and the yellow

upon a line drawn
across a page
where the sky
and sunburst clay meet

— as neighbours
who smile and wave
without names
or words exchanged —

upon a silence punctuated
by shafts of pine
shaved close by winding
laneways into storyteller points

The agony of those who refused to accept death in a futile conflict lingered in their ashes, which grew heavier with time as the pain became more acute as more ashes piled up.

I am forever bound in this grief

soft skin and rose petals

scattered like the ashes of my dreams

across the bed of my nightmares

I close my eyes and taste the

salt kissed waves of your

ocean

the sea that drowned me when I was

helpless

and the arms that saved me

both realities existing together

as one

as your fingernails move down my spine

carving love letters and the blood

that we will offer

to Cupid,

in thanks for the richness of this moment

the textures that breathe eternity

in your hands

I am bound to this grief

of my carelessness

for you slipped so easily from my grasp

like sand through my fingers

just glass

glass to shred my bare feet on

as I walk towards

that beckoning ocean