There’s a square,

The silence kills me.

In which the okay things go.

Unasked questions,

But I stray sometimes.

I want the answer to.

I don’t mean to hurt you.

I’ll fall.
My tarnished ideals,
Heavy on my heart
And filled to the brim
With intoxicating…
Lust?
It sweeps through my veins.
Leaving me wrecked,
Lost in dreams
The kisses of memory
A hazy shimmering world.
Heart pounding.
Beating.
Thrumming.
I’ll lose myself in the mists.
Emerging, filled with fire.

To go back. It’s a fond wish.
One that’s locked up and buried deep,
Because it can never be fulfilled.

But in the dark corners of the night,
When the stars, eons old, dance
And the sweet temperate moon,
Washes the harsh day away.
I can pretend in my dreams.

In my memories you never left.
I went left instead of right.
That the hurt never happened.

And in these moments I’ll try to find,
What happened to my happiness.
When I find it again, then the dawn
Will no longer shatter my illusions.
Leaving me to drown in bittersweet reality

This broken teacup of mine,
Lays on the floor.
Pieces scattered and crushed into the carpet.
A mosaic of pain.
This broken teacup of mine,
Stabs and slices,
As I pick up the shattered porcelain.
White stained red.
This broken teacup of mine,
I can’t put back together.
I remember it fondly from when it was whole
And admire its new beauty
As I wait, patiently.

Heartbreak forced through the cracks,
Dripping heavy ichor, drip drops interminable.
Muscles and veins shredded,
Caught on rough stone edges.
Pulled by strings attached to your sharpened claws.
I scream soundless,
Beg for the end with my thoughts.
Beg for these dreams to vanish into the day.

How sick and foolish—
Just a drop—
And I now taste despair.
Feel it crawling inside:
Dark and poisonous
Like your humanity.
But oh! How I shall fight!
To be freed of your mess
And shackles.
Until I can laugh at your face
For all the pain,
You forced me to swallow

The cicada revealed itself to me.
Gray to the touch,
Streamlining itself into oval curves,
To cooperate with the summer storms.
I listened to the tangy air.
Watched as they organized their flight
And as they disappeared
With their flowery baggage
All while lightning struck the air.

It’s so dumb and not really the point.
I wish, I wish, I wish,
I could force you to choke on it.
With every verbal message you spew,
The more the realization that the sparkle and shine,
Was just a shackle of the basest iron.
One that you released me from yourself.
I wish, I wish, I wish,
I could force you to choke on it.
It’s so dumb and not really the point.

I’m burning as I’m freezing.
My whole split.
Healing as I’m burning fierce.
Drowning as I’m being baptized
I’ll fly off into the known
Even as I become mired in the unfamiliar.
But may the Gods help you withstand my wrath.

Twisted, complicated steps
Of a graceful waltz;
I’d fall if not for my partner;
Where? I’m not sure.
I’d say into the dark, but its day.
If only I weren’t afraid to be lost.
Wandering mind, twirling thoughts,
Startling clarity, the center of the eye.
I see only a jagged edge of red ribbon,
Caught fast in your affectionate hands,
Woven from our bleeding hearts.
I could be bound tight by you;
Blinded by spinning visions,
Of a maddening waltz
The strings of music bind and tighten.

Rising, twisting flames,
Ruby golden against the shapeless night.
Bright enough to drown out the glitter of the stars,
Thrusting higher as they devour shadows.
They reach for their distant brethren.

She stood, thin wire
Beneath her pointed feet.
“Just a show”
She whispered. Her
Feet danced endlessly
In crimson shoes.
Pirouette, and bow.
The curtain fell along
With her tears.

The night is dramatic
Awash in silver and black.
Without the stars
The full moon glows,
Singing to you, lullabies
To ease those skulking dreams.

Death, that lonely tarot card.
A silent grim specter
No one wishes to see.
It impinges upon the norm.
Egyptian curses scarier, more real.
Lacelike spider webs, the coldest steel.
Leafless trees, silhouetted against the storm.
Efficiently bringing portentous change.

Got the ring!
Oh the guests!
Flowers on the table
and on the cake too.
Veil fluttering about.
Pearls draped,
Vows exchanged.
Bands of gold glitter;
I now introduce to you...

Blue
It flickered lazily in the back of my mind.
At the thought of letting go,
My mind became a pebble skipping across frigid waters.
Blue
It murmured in my ear, a breath tickling.
At the thought of falling,
Memories of heat and flames rose to meet
Blue

Green eyes, worn
Like sea glass left behind.
Unsure, impure, so full of faults.
The pull irresistible
Wave after wave of sagacity.
I won’t falter,
But, gladly, I’ll drown
In pools, sea glass green.

What a terribly frustrating thing relationships are.
I wish I had more wisdom to dole out or,
Perhaps some pithy saying that would light the spark.
That moment of ah ha!
That moment where you know you’re going to be alright.
When it all comes together.
When you’ve found yourself again
But I can only pound out my emotions onto paper
Share them, and hope they resonate.

Relationships are terribly frustrating things,
But being stuck in silence is worse.

She worked upon their minds,
Using sharply hooked fears
And soft feathered wings,
To whisper insidious desires
Into their hearts and minds.
With the bait laid, rotting in the sun,
They came in droves to feast.
The butcher licked her crimson lips and smiled.

The egg-white mannequin sings, walking down
Pothole-gray sidewalks. To the Met he goes.
What is he looking for? Of course! His toes,
Which have been lost since the lawn-gnome facedown.
It had been Sydney versus Roslyn for
The title, King Crab. And the prize, you ask?
Peppermint wine in a trapezoid flask.
As the battle wore on, they struck a gopher,
Chopped some toes, and played with Play-doh.
The damage caused Google Translator
To speak only Spanish about pink meadows.
Eventually things came to a close.
The victors won with Nike’s bluster.
And off went the mannequin for his toes.

When I said that I was trying,
What I really should have said
Was that I had been stuck.
Mud, muck, mired, and miserable.

What I should have said
Was that I began to claw my way out.
Slipping, sliding, slowly, steady.

What I should have said
Was that home had been in sight
Welcoming, warm, whimsical.

When I said that I was trying,
What I should have said
Was that I had made it back
Only to find I had been gone for too long.

Everything shut up tight,
Boarded over and cold.
I’m sorry I was too late,
Is what I really should have said.

There’s a grace to your thoughts.
Sleek and soft like a cat.
It sets me at ease, and
Sits in my soul, warm.
Everything that I could ever need.

I would have judged you
In that moment.
Between breaths.
When the hesitation spoke for you,
I would have judged you,
But I choked on my bitter rebukes
And started to drown
In the aftermath of it all.
I would have judged you
If there had been no need to judge myself

Cravings for warm electric shocks,
Sweetened kisses
And quiet nothings whispered,
String me up in ephemeral filaments.
Sharp and seductive this fantasy.
Envelop me.
Saturate me in these dreams.
I crave nothing less than to be consumed.

I left Marcus Aurelius on the coffee table,
Stumbled and caught myself in the mirror.
Only to tumble on down through the fridge.
I was seated on air as a guest of honor.
Feed my wisdom, drank my creativity.
Finally breathed in your soul,
As I crawled up the bed to tuck myself next to you.
I sighed and began to dream again.

I should sleep.
Nestled quietly next to him.
Bundled against that soft breeze.
But I want to be mindful.
Breathe in his lingering scent.
That rests against my skin.

The shadows grab at my frayed heart
Reaching forth their cold hands
To pull me towards the coldness
Towards despair
Towards the darkness
Desperately I cling  
Cling to the edge
Cling to the small gleam of hope just beyond the horizon
Beyond my reach
I look back down at the darkness, at the cold dark abyss
And felt a part of me call out to the shadows
And heard them call back.
I almost let go, but I saw you in all your beautiful glory
Smiling at me from beyond the ages and beyond time
So I clung harder to the edge and to the hope still beyond the horizon
I looked at my pale, white hands and felt the sharp edges of rock cut into them
Cut into me
And I saw and felt the warm, red blood flow thickly from them
My life’s blood falling into the nothingness below
I looked above the edge one more time looking, reaching, for the strength to pull myself from this nightmare, this hell
Instead the moon’s pale silver light appeared above me
I smiled and looking up at the moon I let go of the edge
Let go of the pain,
Of the sadness,
Of the hate and anger,
Of the hurt,
I let go.
Down I fell not towards the darkness,
But towards the light
Upon a golden beam of light stood an angel.
Clothed in a flowing black robe and black feathers,
of softness and fragility .
There he was waiting for me, within his dark light.
The Angel of death
Of life
Of mercy
The angel of hope and love.
I landed gently next to him upon the golden light,
And looked with wonderment
Upon his graceful black wings
With a small smile he stretched out a hand towards me.
I took it and was immediately wrapped within his warm embrace
As he rose into the air with me in his arms, a feather of pure black fell and brushed my cheek and a true smile illuminated my face.
Now at long last my torn and frayed heart could mend.

I wanted to tell you stories.
Whispered to you in dreams.
Written love letters.
Pressed into your skin.
I fear though that I’m not a great storyteller.
Your kisses seemed to forgive.

I squirm in my seat.
The pricking of my dreams,
Like a long…
Slow…
Lazy drag
of a soft feather along my back.
Tormenting,
And ticklish,
As all those little stinging secrets
Start to come pouring out.

What happened?
To that fragile moment we held tight in our heats?
Red glorious ribbons of Fate.
The quiet comfort of long nights
Pulled apart, worn by age,
In which we talked.
They lie dirtied on the ground.
Till Dawn whispered to the stars,
As they left, her tears washed it all away.

Fingers trace gentle circles
moving like ghosts,
on pale skin.  
Just awake enough now,
to feel your lips write poems.  
Whispered down my spine,
as we lay tangled on the bed-
wishing for now to be forever.

“I love you.”
Reverberates in my flesh.
Words to destroy by,
Words shared with you.
Coward, I name you
As I ponder
The might have been.

That spark of Inertia forced the cry from my throat
And slipped anguish into your tea.
Drowning the embers that burned there.
While you set my sin into the gears of a time-worn watch,
You sipped the licking flames,
And brought out your creation, with ticking twitching hands,
Into the day to burn.

We bared our teeth.
Tight, mocking grins.
Your expectations ours to devour.

We hunt and haunt
These distorted roads.
We wait, timeless, to consume or free you.

Oh these lack of easily spun words
Sticky caramel masses in the back of my mind.
Stuck, stuck, stuck
Messy to boot
And stuck
To worry it, or stick it back on simmer?

It was a merry-go-round.
I was gambling on the animals.
There was something more,
Going on between us.
A faint flutter of discontent
As I laughed astride a Tiger,
Ready to battle.
I’m not making any demands.
Complete surrender is all I’ll take.

I wonder sometimes
In the still of the night
Thoughts twirling in my mind
A dance of light and color
If you had stayed
If I had changed
If Time had slowed
Long enough for us to catch it
Would I be happy?
Would you be strong?
I wonder,
In the still of the night
With the moon gazing
Down upon open staring eyes
Eyes seeking that moment beyond,
What was left?

Free licks, the sign read.
Of ice cream? My mind questioned.
Summer was not here.  

The sign read free licks of ice cream,
Summer was not here?
My mind questioned.

Dissatisfaction
Antiquation
Fustigation
Dereliction
Destruction

White as the ticking clock face
You struck me. Violent.
Like running seconds dripping away.
Red fell from your lips
and ate my heart.
The numbers framed your face.
All dark ebony,
Dark and sharp enough to cut.

My bed squeaks, filled
With empty thoughts.
I’d rather it be still,
Then sleep wouldn’t hide,
Scared of all the noise.
Grateful,
It’d bring with it dreams.
Sweet, golden ones
To fill my empty thoughts
With the warmth of you.

I’ll stand,
an awkward flower amidst your thorns
Perhaps a touch battered;
Most definitely worn.
Red and invoking dreams-
I’ll stand.

You, fairytale princess,
Who looks out my mirror
Chocolate eyes, pert nose
And lips drawn in a bow.
I don’t think you
Are at all real
But I’ll sit and stare

Familiarity echoed golden through her mind
Just a light touch here
A flash of a light, and eyes stared knowingly.
A lovely little gasp of breath
As everything was awash in a setting sun.

My fury would wash you down and away.
Tumbled red and broken dry,
Til you’ve been laid out flat
And pinned to cork.
No better than a butterfly.
All mine to display.

Half remembered clichés dance along the pier.
The divide between,
Sweet salty land and unending depths.
My talking dolphins sing a tune,
Unsettling and threatening.
Feed scraps from the dinner table
by my curly haired gambler.
I only see him at that old dollhouse,
Cracked and weathered by the Sea.
It insists on knocking on our red door
and staying for supper.
So it can beat us at throwing pennies in a cup
Plunk...plunk...plunk

Shift my thoughts.
Bring to close,
Our beginning’s end
And more sappy prose.
No more! No more!

Dreams

Distorted

Jointed

Cruel

Pleasurable

In the

Extreme

I’ll sing you lullabies
Of sticky toffee
And Fairy’s wings.
Falling stars to taste.
Whispered rhymes,
My soul to take.
Rosy thorns that grew
Into golden thread
And tied, my heart to you.

I found myself wanting to pray.
To lift up my words and let them float away.
Instead I put ink down on paper.
Hammering and shaping them to display,
This sense of wrongness and decay.
I’ve been reintroduced to the light,
Only to see that I’ve been made from clay.