☪*  *Celestial     dream    catchers   ☪
∈    won't tear     the stars     asunder tonight.    ∋
◖◗   But they   make no   such exceptions,    ◖◗
⚮   for poets.   **⚮

A luminescent firefly is the opposite
of a cascading waterfall.

°Lies dribble down my orange-moonlit chin,°
《》《》《》
The truth isn't lingering on
my dawn-ridden lips~
So don't lean in.

◇I'm ready to accept
my nights are numbered
to call you my
soul-mate.◇

I can see the battle
brewing like wildfire
in those lycanthrope, eyes.

A willow cannot compete
with the frost
and an autumn kiss.

¥ Her words felt like
lightning stabbed
a hole through my neck,---¥
When I grasped his intentions.


I have been so
unbelievably *******
Selfish.

To quote an old
memory that I have no remedy for~~
《》《》《》
How do I feel about losing you?

"I don't know."
.

'

Will they find me asleep alongside you,
when the dawns are crisp in moonsong?

The stars are pulling at my hair again,
pleading that I should visit Neverland one more time.
●   ●   ●   ●

"Come on!   He's coming for us Kira!  We have to run!"
"Who's coming for us?!"
"Captain Hook, you idiot!"
"Jack---"
"--It's Peter!"
"But it's 8:00 at night I can't just---"
"Hop out your window, Wendy!  I'll catch you!"

●   ●   ●   ●
Can't promise I'll come home.
I never have.

If I'd be counting lunar shadows,
I wouldn't miss yours for the world.

Dreaming in sync to a glass of whine,
Fill my bowl ****** and blame it on a silver bullet.
●     ●     ●     ●

"What's wrong Jack?"
"This place...it's...scary..."
"Oh come on!  You're always wanting an adventure, so let's keep going!"
"I'm serious----"
...........
"Jack?  What is it?"
"Run."
"But---"
"Kira we have to run!"

(  c   r    a    c    k   .  )
●     ●     ●    ●
It was an odd serenity,
watching your body embrace gravity and charred stone.

You tainted the river redder than any sunset
could've, your bloodstream spilled the contents of your life onto the forest floor.
●    ●    ●    ●

"RUN AND DON'T LOOK BACK!"
"BUT JACK---"
"I PROMISE YOU'LL BE OKAY!  JUST KEEP RUNNING!"

●     ●     ●     ●
Oh, you'd be sixteen by now,
Peter Pan.  (Jack Addison.)

And I'd never have grown up.*
.
'

-



Lead dripping from
empty sockets,
a clock hissed in serpent hours,
it's venom oozing from the crystal walls
it's 4 a.m. you insomnia lunatic.

I'm too busy admiring,
how the man in the moon slithered through
these blinds on my soul-swept window.

That night I was a canvas,
as the moonlight stripped my arm raw of shale,
and tinted my skin with
silvertongue.

And when he was finished,
tiger stripes tattooed my thinning vessel.

-

"Do you understand the sorrow of a star that cannot return to the heavens?"

"Of course."

"What?"*

"It's like you said,
there's no remedy for memory."

•□•  Can't shake this mist  •□•
Draggin' paged swords down my stomach,
Split my opal skin
wide open
▪ccrack▪
find a sunset gushing out
¤twist¤
can't swap the dead sea
and the larkstone coffin
in my cherry-blossom throat
°scatter°
All these razor droplets
'◇quiver,◇'
bronze scraping at my jawline
/|*groan/|\
And look yonder---
a lonely crow
whispered louder than thunder
'''scratch'''
•□•  Can't shake this mist  •□•
....
Come back to haunt me,
but my poetry already has me
six feet under.
¥ Demons ¥
€ squirm €
in
the
₩ Soil. ₩
"We aren't any different now, are we?"
.

●Sunken to my basalisk heart●
○the drums of nebula bursting○
•Saturn sliding down my shoulder•
°-Lupus circling the lunar fire-°
◇A flask of ivory,◇
¤in the diamond flesh.¤
•This mirror glinting•,
○Steel jaws meet my neck.○
~Casting amethyst over
my hair.~
| Reflections scratching at the mist. |
______
"You look lovely covered in
words."
A luminous face, pale and lean.
Spirited as foxes, a shadowman in
gunpowder chain.
Ghost.
"I think you mean sleeves of
poetry."
.

Your eyes shift like
clockwork  forcing
December        into
it's    rightful rank.
Frostbite  bursting
from     jaws       of
Sagittarius,    iron
staining         your
crow    -feathered
muzzle.                I
plucked       Sirius
off the face of  the
sinking sky while
weaving           his
starlit   fangs into
steal wolf    teeth
for replacements.
You    swallowed
an oath of loyalty
for        alunakira
so     I   will build
and    reach   into
that        heart of
vintage      glass,
drag the  dog of
war   from    the
sunset  stomach
you           own~
and do as Lupus
told        me  too.
I  will construct
symphonies  of
tiger            -lily
dusks & dawns
to     raise    the
dead  poetry in
  basilisk    heart.
Lycan,          I'll
   withdraw    the
   ashes              of
  Avalaone    just
   to   get          the
  Gears working
  again   in   your
a   u   b  u   r   n
e       y     e       s

Twin  vipers on
the windowsill
chasing  young
******  moons
send a  shadow
       off  to fetch  me      
gnashing  gears
'tween ink  skin
  skewing   snake
  tales  so that the
  venom      won't
   kiss   my   cheek
  g o o d n i g h t .

.
Ͼ Dragonite, Dragonite,Ͽ
>< >< ><
Chinking at your heartstrings,
can you hear
it
շfreezing?շ

>< >< ><

A blush to
your snowy skin
and so you
stop
⇷breathing⇸

>< >< ><

A eyelash brushes away
a century,
a blink knocks out
two more.

>< >< ><

Fetching back a inked paw,
hear me rapping (oh so knocking)
on
your
selladore?  (cellar door.)

>< >< ><

Ͼ Dragonite, Dragonite Ͽ
brush the stars from your hair.

Ͼ Dragonite, Dragonite Ͽ
Words and blotches are unfair.

But then again,
scatter your inkheart, dragon boy.
.

Misty
                           Mountains
          Glow                        
                ­            in the
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
tiger-lily                        
twilight.

Yin finds                                      
                  Yang,                                       ­                    
'neath the                   silver web.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I thought you hated spiders?"

"I do."
.

.
Ancient games
tell tales of dust.  |||   A story drawn
from the lips of two poets.


~~~~~


It's the wits that ****, not Queens of ivory or ink. *
Charged with coal strokes, scraping up the lies.
Pawns & Knights slip between the grasp of the sun, leaking into   lion jaws of Leo.
Shifting these granite plates, ignoring the Rooks common price of aslant.
Here we have slain kin, crescent traitors that backstab the night and battlefield.
Closed doors and trap floors, trade me a tie, swindling your tactic ruts.
Reality never got the noose around our necks, check turned into manslaughter, and kingdoms ripped asunder by the roar of Jupiter
Get up, get up, get away from these liars, they can't have your rank or your fire.
Peak a notion, this match is spared by a luft.
Toss away the pride buried 'neath your dusty skin, it don't matter no more if   death has you by the lips.
Silence is a language too in our eyes of earth.
Take my hand, knott your soul into this downfall, and brace yourself for the wreckage in our bones.
The Sword of Sorrows will fall 'pon your shoulders, not to slay thee, but to dub thee a new day.
The drums of war will knit the lyrics in the sky,
singing:
"The mighty sharpen their fangs, the weak sharpen their wisdom"
~~~~~
I'm tired of your wishbones, and golden scales, give me the hard-earned truth.
Hot coals of honesty may you tread upon, shadow-bitten remorseful may you be, don't stray off the course of Ursa major.
The North star isn't the one I follow
It's the moon with all of it's phases,
Eclipsing and crescent, tipping the sky with it's beauty.
Now let this sink further than any soul has ever sunk,
no man could ever
rule the moon.
~~~~~~
Shoot on command,
C
h    
      e
c  
      k
m
a
t      
e
~~~~
You could drag me to hell and back and those words wouldn't mean anything.
Let this downfall become a *downfell,
Because last I checked
"Wolves worship the moon"
and I have broke it's reflection in the water
Just
by
throwing
s                    
t          
o
         n
                 e
                              s
                               ­        .
.

.
Grey
Blinds
Claw
○○○
At,
Subjects
Of
G­reek
Moonlight
●●●
A
parade
of
death.
○○○
Weep
Like
The
Fors­aken
Poetry,
●●●
"you truly are. "
.

.
"You have your father's eyes, they're full of nothing but truth."
Ah,
So that's why they're so ugly.
.

.
The lips of war will not determine which constellation you slaughter.
I've knotted tears into the dead sea, I'm still crying for
you
If a god could see us now
~~~~~
they'd see nothing but ink
flesh and stardust.

and maybe
an eclipse
if we the souls
aligned.
.

.
A story is brothers with a poem.
That's all this is, family.
~~~
Your soul couldn't get any bigger,
twilight crept over your toes, and
before you knew it---
it was gliding along your throat.

Cliffs aren't made of bones,
they rock and gleam like armor gnashing
twin dragon scales.  The earth growls and lashes, dominance is its domain.

Bellow my legs I view the darkness pleading~
I've never witnessed a starving sea,
it begged to swallow every inch of
my crippled heart of wine.

I'm hanging by the wires we call gallows,
tendrils thinning like my silver lining.
Soon I'll feel the tides swallowing at my spine.
When I fall,
I'll do so
bliss-
ful-
y

This cliff has lockjaw,
the stones morphing into fangs of a Greek legend.
You're staring at me,
Saturn now makes its home in your auburn depths.
How I'll miss the misty mountains,
because you named them
after me.

A whisper louder than thunder,
lonesome ashes staining venom on my tongue.  
Coughing up my regrets as if
I had lung cancer.

I'm a hanging nightmare.
That's ready to drown.

No wonder they call you daughter of old man winter, you're practically frozen in place.
I've seen the universe, but I think I'll swing by hell for a change.

"Ahkira....Ahkira look at me."
Why must your voice be so drippy?  I thought you were a frost flower.
Since when did you melt when it sleeted?

"Yes?"

"Don't let go....Don't let go please...I'm coming."

"It's no use.  I'm going to die,
Cinder."
Oh but darling,
you should've stayed glued to glass.

"Don't say that!  I-"
With a lurch the mottled sky pinned you down,
senselessly, you crashed to the floor, 6 feet away from my hourglass body.

"Give me your hand!"
You reached, but I couldn't hold the wire.
Slip-
ping
ne-
ver
felt
so
****
wick-
ed,

But I was wrong.
Your soul multiplied.
It expanded.

But before I fell into the hug of oblivion, I tugged at your heartstrings my very last time.
I brushed the surface of your being and my words stung perfectly in your ear.
"Close your eyes."
.

And the darkness
became my
second fluent language
that night.
<>
I swear to god
that the truth
is not a sin
I paid for.
<><>
It was almost as if
lunar planets
kissed my body with
craters and grooves.
<><><>
I traced the lining along
my ballistic skin and;
||||||||||||||||||||
boy am I not happy with how
my designer shaped my meager
body.
<><><><>
I even remember how blissful
it truly was to watch
the phenomenon cascading while,
sticks and stones are
becoming the words
to obliterate my bones.
<><><><><>
I didn’t shed a single
tear, (filthy ******’ liar)
|||||||||||||||||||||||
as reality squeezed the
breath right from my January lungs
this time.
<><><><><><>
And dear lord
let me tell you,
watching the problems
have a butterfly effect on
each other is a full serving of
despair with a side--
|||||||||||||||||||||||||
of empty threats and denial.
<><><><><><><>
If I was to cross my theoretical heart
and hope to die,
I’d probably dissaemble my body
but I sure as hell,
won’t break those promises.
<><><><><><><><>
How empty can a girl
become?
It’s not even 8 p.m.
and I already have nothing left
to bleed for.
<><><><><><><><><>
And so what if
I told you
the darkness would only speak,
in tongues of
moonlight?
<><><><><><><><><><>
Because even the
man in the moon
gets lonely(ness) sometimes.
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||­|||||||||
How lovely
that we are not alone
but yet so
lonely?
<>

Eloquent april showers kiss her forehead,
Oath-enriched may flowers fleck his cheeks.


& now there’s rosemary bursting from his venus veins---
        ashes aligning in those sickly tear-ducts.

( w h y  i s  h e  w e e p i n g ?)


What a coincidence;
her love was her forte
    and yet his eyes
were foreign to the music.


My dragon princess is in love
    with a sickly raven boy;


and he’s caught a icy cancer. . .

    “Raven boy loves his rosemary”
Look, love’s fingers bittersweetly

    entwined with death


...are now limp.


The rain is her salvation        and his

                            roots.


Maybe it wasn’t a drought


Maybe it was

            a flood.


After all,    
            there’s no such thing as too much beauty, on venus,
                                        and there's no such thing as too much rain,

in April.

(I'm sorry dragon princess, but not every flower was destined to bloom.)
.

.
Isn't it amusing?
Your exhaustion is
craving your energy,
dragging away your breath.
Isn't it lovely?
Sleep is actually
the son of life,
but also,
a cousin of death.
.