I held my head
too high;

made it a
home in the
drifting clouds,

but the
rain came
all too soon;

and now

I fall to earth
soaked in my ignorance.

The lies have
lost their power,
leaving me to
face the truth.

My worst demons will
always haunt the
shadows of my
waking thoughts,

they will always
invade my dreams,

and I will
always fight the
longing for their
company.

It will never

be over

© Nathan A. Brock

I took my broken pain and

laid it in a cradle.


I hid it from the world

deep in the corners of my secluded dwelling -


Caressed it tenderly, and fed it

bite sized pieces of anger and

contempt.. until it

blossomed the most beautiful hatred

I had ever known


It stretched forth vines..

gnarled and twisted.. with

barbed thorns that

clung to my every limb..


enshrouding me in a deep and

comfortable nirvana .


How I hate how I love my hatred..


The only genuine gift

I can give freely.

© Nathan A. Brock

It's strange.. things that sting most.

Like the wall that separated the kitchen from the living room..

Standing like a photo backdrop in memories of home.

That house is not the same.

Gutted and plasticized…

A mad surgeon with a jagged scalpel.

Walls torn down…

Reclaimed wood fencing replaced the chain link.

What happened to the Apple tree..?

I fear to think.

Pictures in a Zillow ad for me to find…

God can be cruel… yet, I  find small mercies in his work.

© Nathan A. Brock 2024

How do you hide from the mirror so well?

Your tears are so faint I almost missed them;

I almost missed you!

That fluorescent smile, so wide and so "true".

As though your mouth were not curled
around rough cinder chips…

Hide the cuts on your lips
so masterfully, too!

A smile and a laugh.. you dance like a leaf
blown by hot fume and ash…

Your tattered edge hidden from view.

No, I am not like you.

I dance more like pebbles rolled by the tide..

all scattered, and cracked…

My smile is chipped and askew...

And my laugh is absurd!

Halting and gruff..
not lovely like you.

Not chorus triumphant with heaven's imbue.

You're harp strings and viols in rhapsody blue!

And would you believe, I once had the mind

to smite myself coldly and leave me behind

to emulate all that is you?

To laugh and to sing - to dance like a flame -

to speak the way only you do!

Yes, I wanted so much to persue!

But, your lips drip with nightshade in honey-sweet dew,

so viciously rich!

My ache is entwined in their hue.

No, I could not be quite like you!

© Nathan A. Brock

Would you **** me if I asked you to?

The knife was loose in your hand when you heard a tremulant voice utter "anything"

That voice was not your own.

Perhaps it was mine.

You are no demon's concubine, but a wistful fae thing with eyes that strike at my heart.

That heart which you held in the palm of your hand.

Would you cut me down with that beating blade, if only I would ask?

© Nathan A. Brock