He writes a different picture
She colors in her stories

Vivid images stilled on paper, as though caught in their final acts.
Framed by wild imagination and voiced through the knowledge of language.

But beauty is said to be in the eye of the beholder...
...and their eyes are shrouded in a veil of darkness.

Minds burning steadily like the dying embers of a once all consuming inferno.
Smiles on the outside, but busy hands betray their soothing facade.
Demons in the skins of angels, doomed to the forlorn world of shadows and wallflowers.

His mother's dumb face
His father's cold drinks
It's all fun and games
'Till the happiness sinks

He'll walk straight inside
Not announcing his presence
Stare fear in the eye
And inhale killer's essence

Walk up to his room
And open his door
Foreshadowing doom
That box on the floor

Within it? The metal
He stole it for fun
The steel 'shakes his settle'
In the form of a gun

He tugs on the hammer
And pulls back the slide
Waits 'till the clamor
Of anxiety subsides

Remembers the beatings
His father would lay
Remembers the feeding
Of lies in the hay

He waltzes down stairs
With the gun in both hands
At the very last step
He nervously stands

He won't just say 'blam'
And pull back the trigger
His thoughts make a plan
A process much bigger

Confronting them both
At the small kitchen table
He didn't once choke
When he said "I am able"

He pointed the gun
But his resolve soon shattered
And in shame, shot himself
Saying first "It won't matter!"

His plan had recoiled
But his mission still stood
As the bullet hit oil
And caught fire to the wood

And the flames licked and climbed
And the roof burned and caved
And the family died
In the fiery blaze

And the town down the road
Never did realize
The church choir sings odes
And a young lady cries

But never word flew
Of the evil within
'Till the killers mind slew
Just a boy and his kin

I sing
I place within me, these tired hands
to pull notes from my heart and offer them
to those who no longer reach

I cry out with my voice
A whole piece of love
and ten million shattered vocals
that fall to the ground in a glittering display
For I often harmonize
with the hammer of emotion

These beats and bangs in my chest
I contemplate a symphony
Steal the chords from little flying angels
and watch them scowl as I sing in spite

I remember tasting something like spring
Or so it led me to drool and believe
It was more of just a memory, I suppose

They say that memories are a reflection of insecurities

I say, remember

At a time, there was euphoria, and in my ever present curiosity, I dove into this enigma, only to find that the depths of the ocean are unimaginable

Unfathomable

I pondered here, for many years, often in retrospect, but never once in the now

For the future was bleak, but the past was pleasure

I taught myself how to swim, in the flow
But I swam in reverse

I remember spring like it was yesterday
Standing bold, silhouetted by the winter

I remember the smile like my own, and the touch like warm water
The brush like a soft orange

And in these memories I am consumed

But here, I am content to dissolve

Today I saw an eagle
Fly over my head
It's beauty was most regal
As white wings it spread

I noted it's appearance
As it shadowed my face
My eyes they sought adherence
In the laws of it's grace

My spirits were most high
As the creature left sight
With a soft and sated sigh
I turned quick from it's might

The end of hope I never sought
Beginnings of a darker thought
Twisting guts into a knot
It never mattered if I fought

Demon hands with withered claw
Altered lands, discarded law
Plagued by just another flaw
Cutting skin like axe and saw

Wrapped in deaths black flowing coat
Burning anything of note
Keeps insanity afloat
Words so chilling always wrote

The farmer and his hands
His family and his crops
Tending to his lands
'Neath gentle water drops
Bereft of all worries
He works from night to day
Back and forth he hurries
Feet to mud and clay
When his jobs are done
He donates fruits of labors
To each and everyone
To town and to his neighbors
While gray and clouded skies
Beckon forth more rain
He's in his fields of rye
Harvesting the grain
He cares not for himself
Before his fellow mate
Putting food on shelf
And dinner on the plate
The callused sturdy hands
The strong and warming heart
He loves his own homeland
And farming is his art

Every day that I cried
No one paid any heed
No one saw my tears dried
No one cared to my need

This abyss has me bled
Drier than desert sand
And my mouth is not fed
Nor do any lend hand

So imprisoned inside
In this sweltering heat
So much pain that I find
I am knocked from my feet

So to all a farewell
As I've already said
You can all burn in hell
'Cause this poet is dead

This is the hanging thread
A long string of
Unspoken words
The rope that at one end
Holds down hearts
And at another
Coils around your
Wrist

Perhaps you weren't awake
During the moonlight hours
Looming reflections of today
Glass to my feet

This is the part
Where I write all the emotions down
And outwardly spew blame
Towards the victim of my insecurities
Whom I see as their
Beginning

I
Me
My
We?

I came home today with
A basket of metaphorical flowers
Chrysanthemums and Roses
All the pretty colors of fake
Yet you saw only the thorns
Of our punctured reality

In bleeding hands is the trust
Heart, soul and mind
As well as
Blood-borne illness

All items are
Brittle, apt to break
Yet I bloodied these fingertips
You did not
Toil

You only whisper to me anymore
Still cannot conceal the scent
Of displeasure
Taste
Of bile

Here are the musings
I have failed to intone even softly
Under my breath
For you fail to listen
While you are
*Awake

Tonight I want love
The gentlest heat
To lift me above
Off of my feet

Tonight erase fears
A fingertip note
To weaken these tears
That tighten my throat

A flutter of wings
Silence with a friend
The prettier things
A night without end

I am an aura
Ethereal hum
I am the stars
The beat of the drum
I am the wind
Freedoms embrace
I am the grin
A withered face
I am the field
Sky and sand
I am a shield
Protectors hand
I am the wing
Harboring warmth
Sounds of the sing
Bringing love forth
I am the moon
Eerie the beam
I am the soon
Later and maybe
I am the night
Absent of sun
I am the light
Two souls of one
See me?

Together in relative harmony we stand, unarmed and more powerful than any weapon.
Here we are grounded, dismissing the cries of discrimination.
Torn apart, yet we’re still standing as one, even though this barrage of open hatred scars our hearts.
Shining through the darkest days, and finding solace in the fires of inhumanity.
Huddled as though to escape cold souls, whose poison is potent enough to blister not only our ears, but our spirits as well.
It is in this closeness that we find refuge from the beckoning reality.
Desperate minds, lost in the confusion of our segregation.
With the words of the evil resounding in our heads, and the hands of the hungry around us, we will rely on our fortitude and move on toward a brighter horizon.
With our eyes set upon a future of unity, and our hands raised in a salute to peace, we will unveil solidarity and the strength of our voices will ring from every mountainside.

Evade the bait
A sickness no doubt
Laying in wait
Don't know what it's about...?

Complain to the "Great" ?
Pay praise to the fake
Pray sayings in "his" grace

Play hymns at his feet
Listen when "he speaks"
Be coy and be meek
Tell me, what do you seek?

Tell me, what did "he" make
Other than hate
And it's wasted
On space in our minds
For the non-straight

This name you create
For an image of a place
With white marble gates

That doesn't exist on this plane

And it drives all insane

We make faces at fate
And laugh at destiny
A testimony that states
"Of the different, we're afraid"

So let's keep it normal
Let's keep it formal
Pretty white lace
And the white matching face

With a smile
That betrays the look in the eye
And that resents the knowledge
That nothing's alright

That something's awry

This "man"

He may or may not
Be deity true
My opinion is shot
And maybe it's you

That I target this time
With my question so strong
"This man in the sky...
...is he wright, is he wrong?"

No substantial proof
Ever points me to clues
But I have no idea
I don't walk in your shoes

So let's be real
Whether reality is heavenly
Or earthly

I don't really feel
Like it's too big a deal
I just hope that you heard me

And my message is this
Whether or not he exists
There's no reason for fits

It led us to fists
And eventually war
First fought with sticks
Then swords in the storm

And it's gotten much worse
And the hate festers still
And the void that we know
A "god" tries to fill

But let's be honest
The belief spread fast
And so did the plague
And so did the deaths
Of the wars in the past

So this brings me back
To the question at hand
"Will it last?"

My valentine
Do you remember
When we were blind
So young and tender?
Softened by
The cold December
Our love so warm
Like dying embers

Were my tears made of money
Would they catch your eye then?
Were my words made of silk
Would you listen to them?

If I took to the air
Would you notice my wings?
If I offered my voice
Would you wish that I sing?

If I lent you my hand
Would you notice the scars?
If I shone ever bright
Would you call me a star?

If I fell to the ground
Would you help me to stand?
If I told you I cared
Would you then understand?

You can say you know me
Every little idiosyncrasy, habit and ritual
That you see me do

You can say you know me
Based on the demographic
Of the people I am with

You can say you know me
Because you have watched me cry
And heard me yell in anger

You can say you know me
Because you gave birth to me
Because you created my existence

But until you can say
"I held you rocked you fed you,
sang to you hugged you loved you"

Then you will never know me