I fought for beauty, goodness and truth
against your nihilistic violence of love.
All guards down; teeth, claws, hammers, awls;
frenzied, you wielded your weapons of choice.

Your aim was deadly, like a cheetah taking down a gazelle.
It's only necessary, you said, that nature's black palette
be gentle: It obliterates the conscience, paints over all wounds..

I found mine bearable, torn flesh here, black eye
there, a gimpy walk, an endless headache..My energy
level collapsed; I had no appetite, no ambition, no hope
for escape.

Your hold on me was like the hangman's, delaying the inevitable,
yet asking for a little decorum before the bitter end. And still you
fought like a she-cat, black, sleek, sinewy -- God's beautiful killing
machine. You attacked like lightening -- swift, crooked and wonderfully on fire.

You clawed my face, my back, my brain at its soft spot.
You cracked my skull with your nearly 90-pounds-of-pressure jaw. You tore open my chest, ripped out my heart to sacrifice it to
your gods of vengeance.

Then you drew a map in the blood and offal inside the cavernous
room of my beaten body. The map charted a path to the heart no longer there; to the brain now chomped in half; to the claw marks on my face, my back, my tattered torso. Each path you drew left a ragged incision that eventually healed and left a scar.

"Follow the scars," you said; "they will lead you to the soul --
or the blackened morning sun. Follow them and see
how my love is virtue; how it knows no limits."

1
Shivering, I stand alone
inside a sleepy railway station,
looking for a train that never comes,
watching as my spirit comes undone

From the ceaseless clicking of the clock,
the senseless ticking of the watch
that weighs my body down.

Behold how the mortal earns his fate:
There is always time to wait.

                    2
No sooner does time expire,
than it rises up to sire
its progeny again.

Shamelessly self-seeking,
it wrecks our days reeking of narcissi.

Gaze into its plate of polished glass
and watch your phantoms pass.

They punched their tickets late.
There is always time to wait.

                    3
The Flame of Life arrives on a second-class coach.
He eyes me, careful not to reproach my sensibilities.

He comes to cauterize my wounds of time,
but worries I might swoon or mind
the excessive heat.

Perhaps he’s right; I’ll change the date.
There is always time to wait.

it's going to be a long day
long night
long morning
whats the difference
if you don't


sleep



anyways.

Wandering aimlessly
My soul the only compass
But my mind is lost
As I see the trees begin to frost
I wonder how I got here
Dropped in the middle of calm chaos
Through the forest
You are my light
My muse
No sense in a fight
Your eyes
At the end of this
The only cure
To my hopelessness
See you
See through you
Connection instantaneous
Stuck between a rock and a hard place
Because it excites me too much
To see your face
And I’m attached
Feeling attacked
Suffocated
By the world that surrounds me
Outside of these doors
Having me completely floored
Sound of your voice
Left without a choice
But forced to make one
At the barrel of a gun

What does my future hold
The untold story of me would be helpful to see
the next step to make
My name: Mistake
I'll make my name known often
To walk a straight path in this combat zone of fear
My name is proclaimed loud and clear for all to hear daily
With every land mine hit is a word audibly heard
                          
           "You were a mistake of a husband, I shouldn't of married you"

"It was a mistake staying with you for all of these years"

                  
                   I tried hard to defuse the explosives awhile ago
                   Believing the meadow was clean of the obscene
But I refused to take the time needed to re-fuse each bomb correctly


Sincerely:
Mistake