He carried burden in his little bones
Since the day he first arrived.

His legs would spasm and fail him
In mid run; he always insisted
That he just didn't tie his shoes well.

His arms would always lock at the joints
As he slept; he always just told me
That he was tucked in too tight before bed.

His hands would go numb and he'd
Grip a glass cup too tight; shards splintered
His small palms, but he said it was fine,

And that he was so very sorry.

The smallest coffins are the heaviest,
And I could have swore I heard him
Say he was sorry as I carried

It out in the rain.

Childlike glow
of thy radiant
skin, pale like
snow kissed
by sunlight.

Rufescent lips;
like flowing blood on
thy porcelain face.
The same of
your cheeks,
and
the ribbons of thy
veins…

Dost thou know ye
art not real?

You!
Ringing bells.
Flutter.
It yells!
And
it never stops
singing;
voice reached
the top.
Half cracking;
fading.
I
can tell
the angel
fell.

There in the vines
running down my spine,
are overgrown vistas,
and rooted enigmas
of the mind.

At my wrist —
the burning kissed;
pools in my palms;
red water of painful psalms
shrouded in mist.

Heme-less, desired;
nature, devoured;
draining forget-me-nots
won’t clot.
My nymph has retired.

You are an aura; iridescent,
aglow with elemental purity.
Aether is your kingdom;
it’s subjects are the mists!

You are the day; bright,
possessive in your surroundings!
The prism is your charm;
it’s colors a decorative chain.

You are the night; mystifying,
obscure tempest of shadow.
The moon is your crystal ball;
you scry using the stars!

You are the seasons; ever-changing,
abundant, frail, and demanding.
The spring is your gift;
the winter is our atonement.

Little moist drops of heaven
       Trickling down my throat
    The heavenly burn,
                   delicious
Synonymous with an Angel's wings
               fluttering in my esophagus
     Liquid lightning, striking
          Almost blasphemous
 A devilish game of Russian Roulette
              With four shot glasses,
   Three rogues and one gent
Emotions getting looser
    Clothing getting tighter
           The taste becoming
     Sweeter
          Liquefied demon tears
Playing a wicked game
            with my insides
    Putting a beautiful curse on my mind
             Melted Whiskey Raindrops
     Sending shivers down my spine
           This hellish war of love, hate and
                    Intoxication
   Has never felt so
                  *Divine

Razors pain you;
Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren't lawful;
Nooses give;
Gas smells awful;
You might as well live.