My thoughts are contaminated with an unknown radiation
and the blood in my veins feels as if it has have been replaced
by toxic sludge.

There are ink stains on the bedding where my body rested
from the times were my quarantined mind was deprived of slumber, for further testing.

~  ♢  ~

this touch
of your hair
brings me
there~
a glimpse a
sense
the recipe
of you
    
this taste~
your dna
quilt~
threads of
woven
chemistry

the essence
of you~
forever to
descend
into my
deepest
pools
of memory
and dreams...

  ~  ♢  ~

Copyright © 2016. Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved

I have travelled long and far,
My feet are sore, and my bones weary,
My eyes may see, but I am blind,
My heart may beat, but my soul is dreary,
My back aches from the weight on my shoulders,
My gun isn't as light as it used to be,
My flag isn't as pure as it should be,
I am not as I should be.
I crawl through the darkness of midday,
Plagued by the voices and what they used to say:
Strong man, young man, be the soldier of fortune,
Strong man, young man, sing the songs of your nation's tune,
Strong man, young man, come back with stories to tell,
Strong man, young man, go my boy, and show them hell,
Strong man, young man, hold up your shoulders,
Strong man, young man, go now, and be a soldier.

I have lost my mind in the madness,
I have lost my heart in the sadness,
Ghosts and family haunt my every waking moment,
The pleasure of life is now no more than blood filled torment,
I have seen the face of the Devil in the bowels of hell,
I have kissed Death, and I have lived to tell,
So listen to my stories, oh yea plagued and unfulfilled,
Bath with me in the blood of the men I have killed,
Blow your trumpets and your drums to the music of war,
I held up my shoulders, and now they are no more,
But I survived.
So sing your songs and chant your praises, but I don't need them,
You sold my soul.
Mother, I'm coming home.

We seem to believe
That someone's problems
Are dark drops in clear water
Can't see through, too solid

We can’t separate
The drops from the water
The dark from the clear
The people from their problems

Like they’re one in the same
And all they’ll ever be
We’ve let problems become
Someones identity

But a rose is not a thorn
And a cactus, not a needle

They are people with problems

and not problem people.

Ruby lips etched sharply
Against a gauzy memory
Pensively floating on the hope
Of a love long lost.
She resides in a murky present
Time out of place
Creating a romance of a silky past
Delicately draped on her soft shoulders.
Locked in a whirlpool of faded emotions
She yearns for substance that is both
Supportive and translucent
Unsatisfied but not hopeless
Resting upon her reverie
Evening slips into night
Dreams envelop her.

A fixation of light
A point in the sky, frozen at will.
Steel clashing, gold splinterimg.
Dust off some humility.
Time has bent what cannot snap,
And trust me I've had my fair share
of traitors.
Injecting betrayal.
Rusted love on
Platinum shoulders.
The world is leaning because my right shoulder can't hold it up.
I will seize the planets and tuck them along my sleeve.
The waxing dawn,
And waning dusk.
I'm not worth my weight in silver.
I'm collecting my friends 'neath the willow tree.
Will it be the only one weeping when I'm gone?