I thought I had buried the pain beneath
the clouds, half-naked and floating,
a terrible vibration exploding into
immense hurricanes, savage knifed
thoughts drowning my flesh, saw
gashed, whip slashed, a ragged beaten
roadblock falling in drunken depths.
I could feel the cold splintering blade
slicing my neck, a suicidal slain beat
filled with swelling flames, crazy
unchanging borders broken, hammered,
shoved, a damaged ocean bleeding
in strangled waves.

There was so much pain buried
inside my chest, cracked veins
burning without caution, black
screaming skies beaten and choking
in the shadows, a harsh stash of
blazing depths smothering my existence,
as I stood inside my living room
staring at the scattered clothes
covering the red rusted floor.  
The broken picture frames
bleeding in cold splitting verbs.
The damaged dressers beneath
splintered wood.  The offbeat
clock spinning with meaningless
direction.  The hanging ceiling fan
whirling in thundering sounds,
atomic blazed bombs banging
endlessly, swayed salvage rhythms
hardened in harboring oceans.  
across from my drunken soul,
there were the raged alcohol bottles
surrounding the walls of a shattered
love stinging my tongue in sunken
millenniums, constant tears tormenting
my heart into hopeless existences.
And as I stared at the mirror facing
my steel burnt eyes, shadowed
memories of a darkened love
blinding my light, blackened drums
rumbling in clouded disguises,
every part of me was conflicted
and stabbed.  And as the anger
and pain amplified inside my brain,
closed curtains fading in white stains,
unbearable despairs and dangerous
turns, I smashed the mirror with
bruised bladed hands.  And I could
see the blurred images of your
wash away world in each broken
glass, no meaning, useless,
a dead beat stuck in silence.

How could a father hurt his daughter while telling her she means more to him than the world? How can a baby be neglected by his mother?! How can a lover cheat with another!

At times like these it would be better to let the world stop turning, to breathe the last breath, to say the last word, to make the pain stop forever...?

A heart that hurts with every breath, a baby that stops its cries because mama isn’t coming, a love that dwindles, snuffed out, and dies.

At times like these wouldn’t it be better to end it all? If the world stop turning, if pain stopped hurting?!

A little girl grows up to resent her farther, a baby boy grows apart from a world he feels he isn’t a part of, a family is torn apart.

At times like these wouldn’t it be easier for the world to stop turning, easier to breath the last breath, to say the last word, wouldn’t it be easier for it all to be over?!

A women who is strong for herself and others, a family grows closer, stronger than ever before, a boy who knows the harsh truth about this world he lives in.

So it is asked again would pain stop hurting if the world stopped turning?

A fool I was to sleep at noon,
  And wake when night is chilly
Beneath the comfortless cold moon;
A fool to pluck my rose too soon,
  A fool to snap my lily.

My garden-plot I have not kept;
  Faded and all-forsaken,
I weep as I have never wept:
Oh it was summer when I slept,
  It's winter now I waken.

Talk what you please of future spring
  And sun-warm'd sweet to-morrow:--
Stripp'd bare of hope and everything,
No more to laugh, no more to sing,
  I sit alone with sorrow.

My Solitaire is irascible in aspect. Just over the Hill there; I used to carve my initial conditions into a blank stare, or a block of omission. But now my stratagems soar far beyond the pondering of Loneliness. Even Abandon cannot fathom Me.

     I tend to orchids that have earthquake hearts and care for the waning moons in my terrarium of phantoms and glass apples. i anoint the chasm with vespers of Isolation that sparkle like a madness in phosphorus ecstasy. My books are Discreet.
I am their Shogan.