This gaping hole
Buried in my chest
It wishes to meet
And be met by
All the love I’ve seen
But I’m alone today
And I’ll be alone overmorrow
Because my hole is too deep.

Anger is a foul thing
Bitter in the teeth
And rough in the throat.
A tongue, coated in black,
Spitting the scraping tar.

You invoked this of me.
You chanted the spells
And danced the pentagram
And pulled this rage from deep,
Up to the light of your new hell.

Death has long fingers, they say,
Wrapped around her world
Like cobwebs around flies
And skin around bones.

She has wide eyes, they say,
Watching our world and waiting
Like a dumb lamb, young but too old,
Wondering why you have a knife.

Death knows things, they say,
Like how your mother screamed
And your father cried
How your brother fainted
And your sister stared
At your wrist laying
Among the ****** leaves.

I am so very weak.
Times and choices get hard
And my options are run away,
Or build a mask so well
That it becomes my face

I don’t see a present
Past and future are all in my eyes,
The rest unthought, never will be.
It is safety this way,
Better than being too present.

I still own hope
It is still inside my feet
But I float apart, separated,
Made only of ribbons from my mask,
Each decision calculated by fear

I cannot choose between two
Hope and fear
One is a luxury
The other a necessity
I am too poor to afford either
So I carve masks of stolen fear
And pretend myself rich

I want a kind person to see me struggling
Not by me showing them
But by simply observing
And care
And ask if they can help
Sometimes they can
And sometimes they can't
But that itself
Is enough for my heart

That girl sitting there
is a beautiful tragedy
her mind is an aghast
her body
is her grave
her bones
ache
while her throat is being strangled
whats wrong with her mind
cant ever be untangled.
she,
is a beautiful tragedy

my love, you wear silence like a coat
and i am left drifting like a far-out wave.
the wind tangles leaf and sky.
winter is barely noticed, the moon
is a ghost of forgotten flowers where
the night sings to the starry waters,
sings of our love. everything is sailing
like a ship in a bottle, a kaleidoscope  
of brightness, gothic hill and wildflower
ruin, flowing like a silvery stream.
do you dream of me? do you burn when
the night wraps you in her cloak and the moon
unwinds the waters of the seas?
do you dream of me?