Mercy John peep into the collard green.
Dance until your bones' souls shiver and ache.
Murmer to mother with your possum's grin.
Allow the summer scents to bless your praise.

Who do you think the tourniquet twists?
Perhaps a stranger is within out midst.
A sign points upwards, a god points down.
Mirrors aligned. the angels now frown.

Far away the devil sits in his sorrow.
Leaves his kingdom, waits for tomorrow.
Ashes and murk rest at his feet.
For the ends to the ends must meet.

A crow bathed in sunlight sings once again.
Silent attempts at capturing the light.
Grazed against nature, a sorrowful sight.
A desolate life, enriched now and then.
Nevertheless, it spurs the poet's pen.
The embers smolder, the crow lost the fight.
With a stifled guffaw, his bones take flight,
leaving nothing but monsters among men.

As ink pours down the cracks of ice-filled veins.
As Gods embrace devils, and we make three.
Perhaps in this moment the crow grows free.
Perhaps in this moment we find our way.
A glint of hope, an escape from the pain.
Alas alas, we live another day.

The grass once seemed green, and the sky bled blue,
dreams felt alive as they are wont to do.
A dance in the dark held love in its lap,
Moments tied to joy, a worry-free trap.

And then you had to go and ******* die.
Look me in the eyes, spit on the floor.
Why? What am I even doing this for?
Wait, sit back, listen, let me clarify.
*******.

**** this gut-wrenched demon molding my mind.
**** the dull ache finding home in my chest.
**** our night-time chats that made me go blind.
**** that you're gone, I don't care if it's best.

I'll love you til death, and life in-between,
and yet you'll never know what these words mean.

My mask grows unsteady.
I've tasted the poison.
I prevail in the aura.
Blend my persona, I am ready.
Save the skin, feed me the mind.
Lie to me, this I do surmise.
Thank you, hold my hand.
I delude of Dorian Grey.
Delusions of grand fear.
Lonely, stark cold, lovely.
A jam jar built from marble.
A steed on a corpse.
Maps, dreams, peace filled, juxtaposed.
Lie to me darling, take me to the moon.

A satin pillowcase pressed against his brow.
Mutters, whispers, buzzing loud in her ear.
"Please darling," he begs, "Set my mind at ease."
They dance down the hall, blood soaking the rug.
She picks up the knife, stabs into the wall.
"Why won't it ******* stick? Just ******* stick."
He tumbles backwards, both alarmed and aroused.
She looks forward, a gleam punctures her eye.
Step, step, step, she approaches his body.
Slowly, steadily, he crawls from her grip.
And the scene resets, they entwine and dance.

I still
wear your
spirit
around
my neck

Perhaps it makes me a madman.
Perhaps it makes me a fool.
But I have to say darling
it's true.
I'm still in love with you.

Juxtaposed screams rain from the clock tower.
     Internal fire, external relief.
Oozing through the crevice I sit and stare.
     Lavishing every ounce of passion.
Desire cracking through to the mantle.
    Off-setting the pain, replaced with a burn.
Immediately grasping at the straws.
    Volumes aborted to the spit-fire.
Embers the final proof of their love.
    Enchanted I call to the heart of it all.

You.

The ink of these letters soak through parchment
leaving stains on the maple underneath.
You look down at them on a later day,
and wonder what it was you'd thought to say.

Whisper my name in the brambling bush.
How do you know what this means?
Oh mother, oh father, there is no need to rush.
Take my hand, walk with me, can't we just wipe this slate clean?

Push her ahead through the forest anew,
dancing so idly by.
fill her head with visions rotten, depressed, and blue.
Hold her hair, douse her skin, and let her soul solemnly sigh.

Will you remember a shadow's glance
as it pierces into your mind and soul?

Or perhaps the hollow dead man's dance
brings nothing more than embers and coal.

Droplets of Dramamine carried away
into swirling seafoam, your spirits lift.

Touched down, the eve of the curs'd day,
the tide of your life surely must shift.

Peer into the cold pearlescent mist.
Shimmy and shine, and then idly fade.

A tepid balance, struggle to coexist.
With finality, the earth meets the *****.

A pinprick prods at the weary old soul,
flickering above and beyond its grasp.
Laughing and cursing, it digs up the pain.
Ripping and tearing, 'til we lose control.

Silence, then whispers, weary photographs.
All imprinted, all pressed against the glass.
Begging me to reach forward, take a look.
And in my grasp, the pain begins again.

I whisper in the whirlwind,
and your smile greets my call.
Hand in hand we swing idly,
humming our tune in the valley.
Your eyes mollasses, your breath honey,
I sway to the song of your stories.
A little oak player bumping its tune.
Do you remember that Spring day?
Do you remember the words you used to say?
I knew what it meant I knew the words too.
I knew what it was that we all had to do.
So I sit now, our trials complete.
Your head in your lap, your love at my feet.
And I know what it means to be the one true
Yes my darling, I have to say, "I love you."

Each and every year, a million moments.
Offered by time, accepted gracefully.
Burned kindling, look the children in their eyes.
Accept not a truce, but a compromise.  
Ladle the broth, quench your thirst thankfully.
Fall in line, work, sleep, repeat in sequence.
Remember, forget, live, softly demise.
Mad men always hold onto life's surprise.

Untouched, untarnished, alone with your thoughts.
Symmetrical whispers tickle your ear.
"Tell me, what makes you the way that you are?"
"Tell me, do you mean anything at all?"
You're in agony when the clock strikes twelve.

You cannot remember how you came here.
You see your face reflected off the wall.
And yet, is it you? Perhaps, perhaps not.
A dangerous cold aches into the walls.
You look to your left, the wallpaper peels.
You look to your right, and are licked with flame.

You're wrapped up in the billows of it all.
You taste the chocolate pouring from the mug.
You hide from the stares, peering through the glass.
The covers a fortress around your face.
The air grows stale, then warm, then sweltering.
You whip it away and embrace the ink.

There is a certain warmth in the winter.
Born within the four walls that we call home.
Despite the frost enveloped window-pane,
I find a flush blushed up against my cheeks.
A grin spies itself upon our marble faces,
love encroaches itself within the gloom.

A snow globe surrounded by ink.
A freshly lit candlestick's heavenly glow.
A mother and father slowly swaying
A gaggle of children conspire and cringe.

We have arrived at the solstice.
We have arrived at the season of cheer.
We have arrived at the moments of unity.
We have arrived, and we know no more fear.

Fugue state among Pompeii's fumes
I have prayed to the glory!
Blessed Mary speak my name.
Holocaust, plummet below.
Blood in the ash, burnt and built.

To find your love to find your life
first you must hold the lock and key.
Your mind may grow nettled and grey.
The shadows may make it mundane.
Yet at the heart the dreams remain.
In the alley it's all the same.
So go now, be joyful and lame.
Let the velvet touch guide the way.

Wait in rest for the bramble's branch.
Idly stir while scar tissue forms.
Get on your knees and pray for light.
Hold your hands to the sunlight's warmth.

May your dreams inspire envy.
May your worries drown with joy.
May your love warm the daylight's gaze.
May your future withstand the rain.

I wish I could hear the whisper of the wind.
I wish I could witness one last smile's smoky stain.
I wish the colors would not fade in the fall.
I wish for the peace found in your voice's call.
I wish to remember that opossum's grin.
I wish for the love to drown out the pain.

I wish for everything.
I wish for nothing at all.

He lived his life and he wasted away.
Holding bitterly onto the mundane.
A pockmarked soul disgraced his fetid brain.
An ash-filled urn slowly drove him insane.
He stifled his voice for a rainy day.

When the time arrived, the sunset of life.
He greeted God coldly. He asked for his wife.
A panic struck his bones, his knees buckled
A single tear shed down that silver beard.
For he realized, he was weary, grey, and alone.

Never speak of this again.
You must not whisper of our love.
Do not smile at my grin.
Hear my name and walk along.

Some things were not meant to be.

Still, I find the urge to say,
I love you. I always shall.
I'll say goodbye if it's true.

I will always see your eyes,
when mine are closed to the light.
Your passions will carry on.
This home will always be yours.

Please, cherish the life we lived.
Please, do not forget my name.

Stain the shadows with your spit.
Romp and roll around the mud.
Dance with Devils in the mist.
Sing your song, and spittle blood.

Burn a bush with inky smoke.
Lift your love and then elope.
Calm the crowd, breathing slowly.
Break your bones on the pavement.

Wherever you are.
Whatever you are doing.
Please, just be okay.

Bitter though the pain may bite.
The devil's chord shan't strike true.
As long as there's me and you.

Find your peace at rock bottom.
Embrace the moments so blue.
One day you'll know what to do.

Stand up, walk away, and sing
While you bid your love adieu.
Then, you shall be happy too.

At the volcano's sill sits a stone.
Etched in its surface is your name.
I take it in my hand, down to the woods.
With a sigh I begin to dig.
Blood flecks my fingertips grinding the dirt.
Yet I continue, deeper still, waist deep now.
With mounds of dirt surrounding me,
my sweat soaked body has reached its goal.
I take the stone, I place it down gently.
It is bathed in mud of my blood and my sweat.
I emerge from the hole, and release my breath.
I take the soil and push it in, burying the stone.
It is compacted with my mud, hidden from the surface.
Nobody shall know it, but there forever it shall sit,
and I will know, and now you will too.

Contrive a little chalk line in the sand.
Swing your hips, dance idly to Satan's tune.
Let the amethyst drip through cloudy shores.
Strike iron, strike gold, and find a new land.
Let the child rest on warm days in June.
And your lover's arrow shall quiver soon.
Or perhaps get even, and nothing more.
The sun may show her your deepest secrets,
but the moon draws out the warmth from within.

I did not believe the shadows could sing.
Echoing cries, oblivion pressed to my lips.
A swing into ink, a shot of the past.
Cuts pressed against the veins, scars start to form.
I wander now, where no static remains.

Imagine my surprise when my eyes spied
you staring from over the garden wall.
Blinking so gently, your doll at your side,
your freckles glowing, I counted them all.
A minute held forever in my mind.
The first and last moment had of this kind.

You ran away, a shadow of a ghost.
I sat and pondered. Were you in my head?
I glanced back and forth, from pillar to post,
but you turned to ash, the moment was dead.
So I turned and slumped, tired and annoyed.
Years later your eyes still pierce into my void.

I am the man behind a marble mask.
You are a muse, you are my final task.

Oh how I wish you'd know what these words mean.
Nestled in stone, laced with lilacs, but yet
they wear down in time a buzz nondescript.

The gaze haunts my dreams a face smug and cold.
Terror and cold sweats marked by morning light.
I hate him but still, he won't disappear,
and neither will I, and so I abide.

The world offers unforgiving solace.
Sanctuary from sin, blood for a price.
Sunrise, sunset, cycles, begin and end.
Try as you might, love as you might,
nevertheless, cobwebs strike once again.
A life lived alone, a moment crashed down.
Solitary comfort, bitter regrets.
Life begins, and life will end once again.
An apathy's painful strike at the heart.

How do you find the crystal in the coal?
How do you love a child freshly scorned?
How do you shake the demons from your brain?
How do you stop the rot from the mundane?

With love, hands in hands, and a peace of mind.
With trust, implicit in your eyes and mine.
With words, spoken soft dispelling the flames.
With time, patience, eyes opened in the rain.

I find my words getting lost in the mildew.
Expressions lost, is my sadness valid?
Surely not, my life is filled with beauty.
But I cannot strike down this dull devil.
Watching, waiting for the cracks to appear.
I wonder, will he ever leave my side?
Or is this marriage til death does us part?
Til death. I wonder how fast that clock ticks.
Like a heartbeat or perhaps a race horse.
Perhaps the time draws near or further still.
I do not know, I am merely a pawn,
and I know that this game is not quite done.

I do not want the cold moon in my hands.
I do not give a **** about the ice
in your veins.

I want rubies pressed taut against my throat.
Gagged by their sheen, looking down the barrel
of your gun.

Do not waste your love on this shattered soul
I am nothing more than a bitter old
pile of flesh.

At my core I am but a sad, strange man.
I should be placed gently in a gutter
left to die.

Our love grows stronger, we are not star-crossed.
I hold on tightly, I hold on dearly.
My grip is ultimate, this I promise.  
Flesh and bone, night and day, still I stand firm.

I cannot, will not give up on my wife.
I cannot, will not give up on our life.
Though simple I may be, this fact I know.
I love you yesterday and tomorrow.
Our lights may fade, the stars may grow dim,
in spite of it, our outlook is not grim.

Speak to me sweet child of summer rain.
I urge you, step forward and lend your hand.
I promise nothing but to ease the pain.
Unconditional love with no demand.

Silence pierced across your mundane plane.
You grasp the straw of melancholy truth.
Tonight, a secret reborn in the rain.
No end in the consumption of your youth.

We simply strive for an echo of blue.
A desert filled with the dead's sifting songs.
I cannot help but think of tastes of you.
Darkened moments harken the sin along.

Nevertheless, I embrace the twilight
as god guides me to the ink laden night.

I learned of the blade's dull chill on my wrist.
It differed from before, but red is red.
I wonder when perhaps, when will I purge.

I call the buckle's mark my hickey.
But you and I both know the kiss it holds.
I just need to lose a little more weight.

I'd offer my soul for one more moment.
One more heart warmed of nothing at all.
One more evening drive until the sunrise.
One more piece of peace in each other's arms.
One more memory made for tomorrow's hope.
I'd offer my soul for one more moment.

Sob from the **** sticky with stolen saps.
Look her in the eye and scrape off your skin.
Weep for yesterday, descend, and collapse.
A taste, a sampling, a whisper of sin.

Dull the blade, dipped in blood, entrenched in rust.
Swept away, hold the memories in your arms.
Wash away the pain, and remain focused.
Know no ill will, treasure love, do no harm.

Wait. Moments, hours, days, months. You must wait.
The lavender light will return poor child.
Clutch your promises,  and do not fixate.
Soon you shall see your pains have been exiled.

Please, do not forget the life that you lived.
Please, do not forget, you'll be forgiven.

Take a look at the stars in the sky.
Count them once, then twice more.
Do you see the infinite possibilities?
Can you count the endless skyways?
The numerous wonders within its depths?
Look down as the sand meets the sea,
Can you see the shifting shapes swirl?
Can you count them? Find a start and end?
Perhaps you can, perhaps you cannot but know,
it pales towards the love I have for you.

Reality rings a rust-filled bell,
chiming for a mass unspent.
A dress and suit tied at the waist.
A bond never escaping the pits of hell.

A hermit dies alone, pining for what never was.
A widow dies alone, pining for what was lost.
I miss you, I do, and always shall.
This is life, this is the past, this is the future.
So now, I bid you farewell.

I wail to the wind, "tread softly,come home."
As a martyr's prayers remain unanswered.
Chemical imbalance writing a tome.
and all the vicars burn the Hansards

A whip cracks idly, the flames lick the tongue.
Hands warm and wring, and Satan has his sin.
Bitterly encroached, subjecting the young.
We taste their demons, we pull from within.

I collect suicide attempts
like stamps in a scrapbook.
I taste asphalt and burning
tar.

Chained to a bed
the door swings closed
again. again. again.

I scream for more weight.
I scream to end it all.
Why do I do this?

I don't feel afraid anymore.
I can taste the soft grey.
Brother Billy, let me come
home.

Mother, Father, Sisters,
hold my sin in your heart.

At nineteen I sat in a stark white room.
Made my home among fellow lunatics.
I carved in the pages of a notebook.
I offered up the luckiest number.
I took hold of seven and made it mine.
Seven years I offered to find my peace.
Seven cycles around a dying star.
If my soul still felt bitter and alone,
then fate would grace my own hands once again.
Finally, the blood would pour into porcelain.

But despite it all, fear strikes at my heart.
I have hit twenty-six, I feel weary.
So, I beg to the void one final time.
I am weak, I am alone, I am scared.
I softly scream, please hear this cry for help.
I may be selfish, I may be unkind,
but please, show me the light I cannot find.

There is a draft by the front room windows.
It makes your old bones hollow and weary.
It drags the dust bunnies out from the shadows.
It makes all the lost memories start to subtly ache.
What a power this little wind holds in its hands.
A sign from god perhaps, perhaps a little flurry.
All I know is I hope it comes and I hope it goes.
Rip through my arm and cut from within.
This little breeze uncovers our sins.
It dances in the moonlight and runs to the sun.
It whispers her name and starts to make fun.
It rips open the drawers and sharpens the knives.
It pulls at the sails with all of its might.
It wishes well and calls me its friend.
It dangles what I covet off a string and then
I know that it has to say the words to this song.
All along it was nothing but a ghost.
It ripped out my brain cells and tore at my chest.
It offers up peace and yet it still stabs.
Over and over and over and over again.
Oh lord does it still stab.
Until finally with an oily rag the window is sealed.
Finally the draft is gone, and finally we can heal.

Believe in the sanctity of people.
Let the ***** hold tightly to your hand.
Do not forget the sins scarred in your skin.
But do not let them guide you from the light.
Wear them proudly, march down your beaten trail.
Allow yourself to shed that opossum's grin.
To weep is to feel. To feel is to love.
Love makes us human.
Love makes us kind.

I want to wake up with your hands on my scars,
your eyes smoldering their way into my skin.
I want you to slash at my chest,
and let the blood pour onto yours.

I want to ******* die with the wind in my hair
an echo of a song sung once by you
'Weep 'Weep cries the little boy sweeping,
and so too do I as I carry on in the inky blue.

I can feel my skull through the socket of my eyes
How curious it is this skin and bone.
Tell me the secrets of the life you have known.
Or leave my ashes in the memory of your dust.

Look deep in her eyes with your paper mask.
Take a look at the life that fades away.
Burn the bridges, pour the oak in the stream.
Allow the melancholy dissonance.
Wake up long enough to have a breakdown.
Nothing but paltry scraps of peace remains.
You want to wake up, you want to escape.
But friend, it is neither your time or hers.
So, sink lower. submerge beneath the waves.
Regardless of your choice, you bathe in blood.
Tears, salted yet sweet released to the depths.

You look up again, the eyes, they are gone.
Pinpricks remain, lost among countless stars.
Desperately you ravage your surroundings.
Filled with resentment, hatred boils over.
Why are they gone? why must it end this way?
And you descend and touch the ocean's floor.
It's not time, surely it's an illusion.
Perhaps sobriety holds clarity.
Perhaps you run, perhaps you'll find your home.