Shoot down those stars!
Their time of ending has come.
No bitter words,
Or tears shall fall,
From the bright windows of heaven.
For their time of ending has come.
On swift arrow’s wings.

Ride through my veins, driven by your cruelty and anger
Leave me nothing, but those shadows and dark places,
You were afraid to touch, afraid to enter,
As my broken hands clenched red fabric,
Twisted it ‘round as whispered screams echoed.
The cracks though my being, held together by silken webs.
A rough touch enough to break me and scatter,
My mirrored reflection towards the stars.

She supposed it was more than just rain.
It was a touch, light and rough upon the skin.
A harsh tap tap that seemed to echo through the world.
Eventually, it took over as she knew it would.
It felt cool, running down her soul
Not that she wanted the cracks cleaned out.
But the rain was insistent, formidable, and crushing.
It was, after all, more than just rain.

All quiet nothings
Exist within the dark
Just like your broken promises.

On those quiet gray days,
My mind wanders.
Echoes of anger and hurt
Greet it as they paint the walls red.
They haunt my footsteps
They haunt my memories
Making me aware of how wrong,
Absolutely everything was.
Make me wish for that time,
When I can live and forget.

This wreak of a world can barely sustain me.
And I’m not one to live in fear.

The waters run
Murky deep.
Muddy chocolate
For my eyes.

Modesty diminishing.
Difficulty at the beginning.
Independence, confining
Taking apart stagnation.

I refuse to let your eyes look back.
The Past is nothing.
A lesson learned and forgotten.
Let it softly fade
And the stars shine bright.
Don’t ever look back.

It’s soft almost unnoticed,
As it steals up on me,
And fills me with shear warmth.
My quiet dreams fulfilled.
Desperate wished unneeded.
Whole at last and free.

In the still cool air of twilight
A gray rain falls
Changing the world to a dull blue
Quietly I watched
The remnants of the sun vanish
Beyond that horizon
Less fiery and bright
More cool and light
Peaceful and calm
A beginning rather than an end

Breath dances along red-ribboned strands.
Memories brush my lips, its sweet touch
Bursts into starlight.  I’m held,
Pinned by the moonlight.
Two hands clasped in promise,
Like a lovely butterfly,
The grass cool and dark
An earthly mirror for the night.

This Rush,
Heady, intoxicating
Pounding against my white interior
Clawing through my skin.
Begging, fighting, screaming,
For a way out.
Dripping, oozing
Through every word
And every well timed ******.
Its fire and warmth gives me
A new sort of fragile
Strength.

And you’re here now
To wash away my fears.
No black angel,
Merely a human sacred.

No bells or prophecy
To claim your arrival.
Just one wish,
Spoken to the night’s sky

Paid in silent agony
Our tears heal.
The rainbow unbroken,
Our journeys begun.

This dancing on wires never ends.
The thrill-seekers wish to see,
The body caught and twisted ‘round,
Lying still in the golden light.

The butcher smiled.
Crimson lips mocking,
As she took in the sight
An insignificant spat
Between two men.
In a stunning flash,
The victor stained scarlet stood.
The butcher’s grin became hungry
And she took her first bite
Out of his humanity.
Which was oh so inconsequential.
Since they all belonged to her.

In the quiet space,
Between chapter three and four.
For now, there’s magic
Between these lines.
A point that is
Often ignored.

I find myself wanting to cause you pain.
Every time that feeling rises up,
My scouring stick packs it down tight.
I can’t, after all lash out.
It’s the high road or nothing,
If only to prove I’m better then you.
But eventually after they’re aimed true,
The cry for “All cannons open fire!” will ring out.
And I will bring thunder down upon you.

I’m a cannibal.
We’ll let that sink in.
It takes moment to digest that thought.
Sorry I have terrible humor, I know.
Why and who?
Mostly myself, I cannibalize me,
To rearrange my understanding of self.
It doesn’t survive upon contact you see.  
So I slice and dice, chop and whip.
Until nothing irritates and the rot sets in.
Then I have to cut out the bad parts
And try to put myself back together again.
So you see it’s really not easy,
Being a cannibal.
But **** I bet the final product will be delicious.

Blue eyes
Torturous and cruel
A cold beauty like
Windswept mountain lakes
Half frozen
Half there
Not reality
My soul catches,
Caught,
Trapped, frozen by
Memories of blue
But any shade of warmth
Has been stolen
By time
By distance
So I’ll sit and wait
For summer’s sun
To thaw my
Frostbitten heart

I’m floating,
Just adrift in feeling,
Not fully one thing or another.
Except when I’m with you.
I get filled up with brightness,
So much, it overflows.
Spills out of me,
And  tries to fill the room.

The embers still spark.
I’d mute them with tears,
But oddly everything has dried up.
Everything is either hot,
Or harsh cold.
At this crossroads
I can’t take the middle path
And so I stand frostbitten and burning bright.

I’m not sure what jarred me loose,
Maybe the medication,
Maybe the ***,
Maybe the drinks I had sitting here,
Maybe just the texting,
But something just shook off the ashes and rose.
Something shifted, something SHIFTED.
I want to run, HA, no going back.
I got my parachute, time to fall and see where I land.

Silky, red-ribboned Fate.
You shine bright,
Wrapped tight around,
This silent stack of letters.
They now smell of sunlight.
Instead of the damp and dark.

Flip on the music
Flip on the water
(Try not to burn myself)
Grab the implement,
(A sponge with soap)
Let the mind ponder,
Cups first? Or perhaps
The plates.
How shall everything
Fit together within
The drying rack?

Little leaky emotions run,
Dribbling onto paper, or
Those pale computer screens.
Mostly black and blue
Never white.

It sits in my chest.
I wish I could say it was heavy,
But it flutters about as it aches.
It feels like a ******* wound to my soul
And cold snow in my shoes
As it seeps into my bones.

Sleepless nights
Basking in dreams,
Evanescent.

Well, there had been a tree
All soft gray trunk,
Crawling with snails after the rain,
And carved with symbols of naïve love.
You couldn’t climb the branches to the sky,
But they could cradle you as you watched the world go by.

Selfish needy human that I am.

My false courage and determination.

Standing among the wreck;

The mess I seemingly created.

Confusion robs my judgment

And I stand lost and alone,

Until the pieces begin to fit.

But I will stand strong and steadfast

As this world tears apart.

As she fell down the wishing well,
A stray thought wormed right in,
“Who am I?
Am I’m Alice? The one with travelled the Looking Glass?
The one who fought the Jabberwocky?
Or perhaps the one who lost her head?
My own head feels a bit lost,
So I must be her, falling down to reality.”

I want to write epic tales
Or little brilliant pieces,
To make a person think.
But the words are slippery,
Plunging. Falling fast from
My grasp, they vanish.
I’m not sure where,
They sometimes return,
And if I’m really lucky
A few moments of furious
Repeating is enough to
Hold them tight and safe,
If only to turn them loose
Onto pages.

Splinters jabbed deep over time
It was just a drop that dripped out
That miserable first time
Now a river cuts through me.
How do I turn off the tap?

To dance?
The oncoming storm,
All breezy bluster and
Quicksilver lightening.
You dance in my mind
All silken whispers
And subtle grace
You dance.

Games played at train stations
As we all just slide by
Our weathered eyes
Begin to crack.
We’ve dried up.
Become husks
As we drown in lassitude
“To the End!” we cried!

If I call upon the wind,
It’ll dance upwards,
From the sea of green meadows.
From the hallowed arches of the woods.
It’ll dance around me
And cloak me in power.

Twisted silver
Aged divine
Horsed gallop
Priests beg
Gold flowers
Grow on
Bronze designs

White Knight?
All the stories have been told.
Black Knight?
A touch to evil for my tastes perhaps.
Gray Knight?
Most would say just right. I say eh.
Pink Knight?
Too tempting I should think.
So neither it is.
I’ll take the Jester
If you please
And smile as my woes crumble before me.

There’s a coil in me.
It likes to wind itself up.
The only thing that eases
This…
Tension…
Is these words dribbling,
Down and out of my mouth.
Babble…
Nonsense…
Not the words I’m trying to use,
Nor the meaning
I’m trying to convey.
I’m…
I’m sorry I’m this way.

I race against my heart’s beat.
There’s a wild call hanging in the still air,
A call of longing slips, escapes from my throat.
An answer to a thwarted hunt.
The Dreamer a delusion.
The Trickster a fool.
The Philosopher a liar.
The Musician a bane.
And yet I hope – struggle.
The hunt will be successful

A hand scribbles violently.
The pen carving through the lined paper.
Black Ink spilling out of the deep cuts,
Soaking into the pristine page.
Words blocking out the light,
By illuminating knowledge.
Strong, scared, and weary hands fight.

Ravens dance upon highwires.
Flashing pinwheels spinning in their beaks.
The merry-go-round grinds,
Its rusted gears, squealing into the wind.
Book pages whirl and fly off into the sky.
The fox’s cry to the butterfly
Went unheard in this whitewashed night.

These unspoken words,
They recall a moment.
Against the inky black of the sky,
Touch, whisper soft, on skin
Poetry spoken quietly, contented.
Movement, undone by moonlight.
Disquiet soothed by the stars.
A moment of peace in between.

Sweet treat left upon the pavement
A sweltering, bereft mess becoming sticker.
I wish to scoop you up,
Stuff your blue shell back into
Your crinkly wrapper, all done up
In a pale green so dapper.

Streaks of gray blot out my nothing.
Piano strokes key into the sound,
Key into my mind. Strings me along
With fevered pitches and staggering lows.
Till passed out in color I lie, drowning.

Searing tears,
Rubbing-sore hands,
Pounding drum headache,
Red eyes,
Lips and cheeks inflamed.
The embers burn,
Laying forgotten amongst
Dull gray ashes.
Shimmering smoke
Leaches away tenderness,
And slowly,
Oh so slowly,
Steal my soul as it rises.

I see you world...
Through my mirrored eye,
Those nuanced shapes of yours.
Animal forms in all.

Not myself,
Not with those wide staring eyes.
Staring through this wall of water,
Leaking from my attic spaces.
My brain leaks fears, like a rusty tin tap.
No, not myself.
Not with these thoughts or falling tears.

Would you dream of me in the space of a breath?

Please say yes.

I’ll be...
Your scarecrow?
Soft touch.
Something that is...
Unknown,
Forbidden,
Joyous,
Whispered prayer.
Kept silent, still,
In what mind
Might be left.