a mountain of bricks, glued by memory,
hand-built by you, hastily put together,
mistakenly given life, a glossy trophy,
i am a mountain of bricks you walk over

a splash of dye, a spill of ink,
i lie red, white, black and blue,
you cleave crumbling edges, watch me sink,
profanities in cursive, defamed by you

i bleed over the cracks, paint over the lines
as you take me back, piece by piece, brick by brick,
scatter me to the earth, burn down the signs,
i am a mountain of bricks, sweetly sick

there's a catch in my throat
a lump, a bump, a sudden
crosswords of air and thought
and the notes are suspended
midair, empty, a vibration
with direction but no motivation

there's a catch in my throat,
a hurdle in the road, a pothole
of accidents and apologies
and the music abruptly pauses
a welcoming dissonance,
warm but jarring

there's a catch in my throat,
and I can no longer sing,
and the rhythm has tumbled
and fallen, and I cannot catch my breath,
but still the silence goes on,
and I can only listen

like the snow before spring,
i am the last breath of frost in the air,
a bitter goodbye to frozen mornings,
mornings now filled with sunshine and despair

like the flowers in summer,
i am the reflection of aging beauty,
crinkled wrinkles are my cover,
a dried up bloom fulfilling my duty

like the warmth in autumn,
i fall with the leaves, orange,
and blood red, i slumber at the bottom
a fatal rest in a hidden grange

like the tress in winter,
i wilt my wings, nosedive
from the rain, pitter patter,
awaiting the silence to arrive

like the snow before spring,
i collapse once again into the ground,
tired, restless, unable to sing,
the seasons just keep spinning me round

and in a beautiful show of collapse all around,
a shower of stars bleaches the ground

beauty fallen, but not from grace
beauty sodden, but not your face

a leaf sobbing in autumn winds,
i am but one of many for whom you sing

a song of light from the silent moon
i listen not for the lyrics, but for your croon

and in a beautiful show of collapse all around,
a glowing breath of life i have found
i live not for the beauty, but for the sound
i live not for the life, but to you i am bound

and like an unfinished song,
i keel on the verses of empty,
and fall into restless sleep
upon senseless lyrics and
painful choruses

that i am forced to sing,
my throat yielding to the
puppet strings of life, rending
every note, torn into fractions
of a melody so haunting only
i can hear

the facade of beauty erasing
the colours of melancholy,
i am bound to an unfinished song
that is me

hollow and thawing
your embrace leaves shadows
in the snow of my heart
melted days and melting nights
a snuffed out flame, shallow
breath, through cracks of
lifeless vein and pointed,
deathly, killer
stalagmites

as the night sky begins to fall
and the dawn never breaks
listen for the silent call

take shelter in the empty halls
run further still, no time to take
as the night sky begins to fall

shut your eyes, dear, shut the door,
pray to God, for God's sake
listen for the silent call

walk on, walk forward in the drawl
of the thunder and lightning in your wake
as the night sky begins to fall

when hope seems lost as shadows stand tall,
when silence truly starts to ache,
listen for the silent call

as the moon waves goodnight to all
and now you feel so, so small
as the night sky begins to fall
listen for our silent call

a ringing, oh so soft,
yet so fragile, sits in my ear
a ghost of a reminder,
that you were once here

and like chipped teacups;
bedazzling in the own right,
my butterfly garden sparkles
in reflections and broken glass

gemstones impressed
upon their heads, forceful
light bled into reality
diamond studded wings
carrying the weight of themselves

a silent beating, whirring;
mechanical clicks signal life
in metal cages

and then; nothing

but the creeping warmth
of dead butterflies in my stomach

the end, that's it.

i fall, a mime (s)till

as the curtain falls
farewells and thanks
in the night sky, resonating
empty eyes crying light

to culminate in this
how tragic, how unfortunate
cracked lips utter
gasping for the limelight,
kicked out of their own show

all for the punchline;

"you love I"

when you're scared
to go home

is when you know the sun
has left the sky

and the moon has drowned
itself in its own reflection.

when the blood bleeds blue,
and the skies turn red

is when I know I've lost you
for sure

when the rivers run red,
and when the sun cries blue

your crystal mask,
cut to perfection
radiates in the burning
heat, a bright beacon,
blinding, bedazzling

yet it is the very same crystal,
that is so fragile,
so see-through
your crystal tears radiate
in the transparent
rays

many are left in wrath
in the wake of Time's path

he seems a foe, seems like
Death's master

treat him with no respect,
try to get away with neglect

he will seem a foe, seem like
no other

but hold his hand, and take your
Time, for

he will be a friend, will be
not asunder

know him all the Time, embrace
every moment and place

he will be your friend, will
walk you till your slumber.

and like death,
sweep upon your victims
like a cold wind on
a frozen night

bring sweat to palms
on rocky mountains,
bring fire to dying forests,
pluck your flowers,
graceful as you go,
and decorate your gardens

oh, sweet sadness,
how beautiful, how deadly.

wake someone up,
and bring someone down
day and day again,
you never fail to bring the night.

final breath in silence,
a rushed collision of fate
for eternity

the glint in your eyes in the moonshine
are wrought now, with terror and scorn
what once was yours is no longer mine

a gentle rain turned to blurry lines
a spark grown, the fire now borne
the glint in your eyes in the moonshine

once one eye shut, now two are blind
facing catastrophe with your mind torn
what once was yours is no longer mine

windblown, torrential in the same kind
sunrise no longer leads to morn'
(with) the glint in your eyes in the moonshine

prostrate in pain, hands now behind
a final cry, alone and forlorn
what once was yours is no longer mine

a whisper from hate, a loveless sign
finally, clear skies now adorn
the glint in your eyes in the moonshine
what once was ours, is no longer mine

and I thought you were
my shooting star,
bathed in light as your
hands reached for the door
to my heart

and I didn't see how you
would come to set my heart on fire,
with you burning wings of starlight
and hellfire,

and I didn't see how you
would come to set me on fire.

i imagine all of us
like little fairy lights
strung up inside our own
shells

when the night is nigh
we shine the brightest,
but sometimes other shine
brighter, and we are blown out
short circuited

we all race for the top,
a winding christmas tree,
breaking your bulbs across
walls and beyond corners,
and the twinkle pop and shatter
becomes louder and louder,
until we rest our heads atop
the shooting star of fame (shame)

fragility, and
pain, peace, borne in unison
how it breaks me so

finger on your lip
tells me there's more than just one
ring on your fingers

in those fiery eyes,
lies a spark of calm beauty,
like colourful death

just like the sun mourns
its dying child,
caressing its dry lakes and flaming forests,
unknowingly only starting a larger spark
of death

so I mourn myself,
my youth,
burning off whatever ashes
of memories are left in the rubble
of tears and pain.

espy the boundless skies
through shards of glass and windows,
and pupil lenses, tinted red green blue,
chromatic panic, a manic display of light

beauty incarnate, as you spectate
through your spectacles the spectacle of
man and fake suns, stars of your own making,
see-through masks and one-way rainbows

as you press closer, sparks turn to flames
and flames turn to fires, burn your skin
with tattoos of smoke and pain,
but your grin only grows wider in the open air

and with a crash, it was a mirror all along,
you realise, laughing on your way down

a reverb in the
back of my mind

rhythmic breathing,
beating hearts till they break

echoes haunt me,
ricochet in the night lights

dissonance like rain on sunny mornings,
glassy eyes till night, till broken dusk

the chorus, the ******
has arrived and I will ride until
the day ends.

it's the shiver down your back.
the background screaming, muted,
but shrill in your shivering heart.

the shouting across corridors,
echoes along corridors,
silence aside corridors.

not creaking doors, no
but ones that shut and never open again,
and the others that stay open forever.

not vengeful spirits,
but broken ones, beyond the point
of saving, broken ones that can't save themselves

broken glass may line the red carpet,
fire may eat at the walls,
frost may gnaw at your digits

but never waver.

Don't be scared of being scared.

and yet again,
they've added too much sugar

it boils over, pink
and bubblegum,
artificial reality,
plastic face

but behind the masks
of dazzling white teeth
and teacups

lie the lies,
and the yellow black
shadows of teeth
and bitter, bitter coffee

how can a minute feel
so, so long?

and how do lifetimes
disappear in front,
right
in
front

of my eyes?

once, it was like a knife
grabbing at my insides,
cutting up my thoughts,
my heart, my mind,
a clear line of chaos spliced
into this line of fire

now, it is but a teardrop
left uncried, sitting on my
eyelid, a muted feeling
that rings harmoniously
through my soul.

like verbal diarrhea,
a poem is belched out from
deep within my inner workings
of the factory, ink-stained and
torn

sometimes i wonder if the title
is just a bright pink bow,
resting atop a pile of
trash.

but what good is a
fallen flower
except to be stepped upon
crushed under your
unwavering soles
of courage, bravery and
anger

i gift you this corsage of
lycoris radiata and
poison ivy,
and may you wear it till
the flowers fall

and crush you.

it's the quiet of dawn
and the silence of dusk
that makes the day.

it's the unheard whispers
of the moon to the sun
that makes the night.

it's the unsung valor
of the invisible heroes,
the flicker of fire in
cold eyes and colder rooms.

and it's the unspoken words,
like whispers from the moon to the sun,
like the muted winds in the morning skies,
like tiny sparks, so alive, so bright,

that give life.

sometimes, all you can
really do is
give them a big smile
and wave them off,
hopefully from your life.

anticipation shakes me
as my fingers tremble
in the looming darkness
of tomorrow

the shadows grow longer,
and i grow tired. the day
stretches on, and doesn't end
but then it does.

and as night falls, so does
silence, and so does the moonlight
over the shadows, over the
mountains that are ever so tall

my dreams are dark,
near nightmares, no where near
reality, where all the shadows fall
and all the moonlight glimmers

bring to light this fear
make this all now clear

the flowers fall,
every year.
lilac raindrops
on sodden ground
turned to dust and
roadkill

the flowers fall,
every year.
beautiful death,
they called it,
as they trampled
on the outstretched fingers,
blue and purple

the flowers fall,
every year.
paint the outside
lavender and violet
crinkle to nothing.

the flowers fall.
see them, and catch them.
remember them.

they come from all the words
left unsaid in our heads
blood from all the swords
bleach the paper red

they come from all the songs
left unsung in/at our wakes
from all our deathbed wrongs
till death do us part (for our sake?)

they come from all the paintings
left undone, hung upside down
stabbed into the wall, only waiting
for us to make our rounds

where do poems come from?
they come from us, to you
from you, to us,
from you, to you.

you wipe your tears
and tell me you're sorry
and that you're the one at fault,
that they were your mistakes,
and that you're sorry again and again
and you should've known better.

you don't see that your mistake is "you".

So much you, it's sickening.

I'm leaving before I become
your mistake.

I can't understand
how some people can stand
other people, till the end,
that really don't understand.

it's almost as if I'm underwater
glassy eyes, haunted stare
I can't breathe, but I haven't ever
if I could, I wouldn't care

tension and suspension
fear, silence in contention
like atmospheric death
not a single breath

spoken thoughts are now
unspoken words, a bow

what I once felt is gone
that's it. this time you've won.