Fear is that rock
In your throat
When you can't breath
And your eyes
Decide they're dry.
It's that numbness
That starts in your face
And paralyzes you whole,
Everything from
Your toes
To your brain
Until you're thinking
A million things at once
And nothing.
Fear is
Watching your best friend
Lose control of his body
On his kitchen floor
Because he was born with
A dysfunctional kidney
And not knowing how to
Make it stop
And realizing you might
Never laugh with him again.
I lie awake at night
With that image
Scarred into the
Back of my eyes
Because I'm afraid
There will be a next time
And that the next time
Will be the
End.

Foamy fingers
Credulously claw their way
Up the sand
Under a twinkling canvas.
Each surge of strength is
Met by an almost
Equal decline.
But by the aid of the moon,
The maiden's embrace
Stalks, grain by grain
Over the sand towards
The arms of her lover.
Whispers grow into
Hoarse cries of determination
And the world stops
To watch her
In all of her courage.
She stretches...
Reaches...
With the last ounce
Of her strength,
She lurches forward
To hold the land
In her arms.
Nature freezes in captivation
To behold an instant
Wholesomely vain and beautiful
And temporary
In their union
And an instant later,
Those same foamy fingers
Let slip the land
They fought so hard
To embrace,
Retreating back to their
Domain of chaos
And the cries of the ocean
Fade back to whispers
Before the sun can
Expose the lovers' encounter,
But not before I let
Her lullaby sing me
To peace.

Circles spin in
Circles spin in
Circles.
Introspection like a drill
And my mind sinks beneath
Forever where
Depths speak of
Years gone by
Like rising smoke
And you made
The fire.
Thoughts perch on clouds,
Fall among the rain
Into speech with
Thunder and lightning.
Flames doused,
You exit stage right
For a moment.
Fluttering chaos
Holding floods at bay
Walls built as
Walls break and
Water wins.
You come with floods.
You are the
Brain filling flood
And my mind
Drinks it all until
There's nothing else.
Water.
You.
Is this madness?

Humans are filthy.
Well some are at least.
The monsters are.
The ones who thrive in
Others' suffering.
In my own suffering.
And monsters and man
Live hand in hand
Because we're identical.
They saunter among us
In the guise of human skin,
Blending their words
To sound like ours,
Keeping their thoughts shielded
From escape
Until the right moment.
Monsters and men
Live hand in hand because
Humans are monsters.
And if we could just read minds,
We could tell them apart.
But then I think
What if I'm
One
Of
The
Monsters?

You journey onward
And I ****** at
The breeze in your wake
Like a rope
That can drag me with you.
But it doesn't
And instead I'm left
With the wind
Sliding through my fingers
Like film from a spool titled
"Memories of you"
Except the spool
Stops unwinding
And I realize the film
Left at my feet
Is all I will ever have left
Of you.

Whatever hope or courage,
Whatever (madness) keeps us going,
We latch onto it
(like parasites)
And don't let go,
For that keeps us
Forever anchored
In this (nightmare) reality.
Though if we lose our grip
(we)
We could drift away
(aren't)
To a place so dangerously our own
(coming)
That reality slips to dreams
(back)
And we dance across the world
Like ripples.

A tale was told to me
Of an angry king of old
Whose kingdom fell to a bitter force,
To an anger he could not hold.
He was said to be an honest man,
Courteous and contrite
But widely known for fits of rage
Causing many to fear his might.
One such fit lingered long,
And the kingdom felt its looming
Like a shadow cast by the king's emotions
With seeds of unrest blooming.
On a stormy night, in the castle chambers
Where the king lied fast asleep,
A visitor came and in the king's chest
He plunged his naked steel deep.
"Why?" The king asked,
His dying voice soft and low.
The visitor answered the king,
His eyes with a somber glow,
"A man who crowns his anger king
Cedes the right to rule his life
And this is how your anger rules,
With the cold edge of a knife."