Narrowed eyes upon a deserted landscape, the tragedies long forgotten in the wake of silence.
Piece by piece, materials scattered about, remnants that her mind couldn't figure out.
Tiny strings clinging & slowly unwound, dragging the corpse across an invisible ground.
Following the path that her heart was being forced to take, surely these strings would easily break.
It's the end of the line, with roses crowding through the space.
Deep brown eyes watch over as the machine beats at a steady rate.
He had conquered her heart, caring for it tenderly, preventing it from being afraid.
She would  stay forever in the garden he built just for her, as he held her once broken heart, next to his own.
This garden was his only way he thought to repay her for the heart she finally gave away.

Remind me why we sin
with the pressure of your lips
tongue tie me
to your sheets
and whisper long syllables
of slow honey
and sting me with your gaze
meeting mine where
fear and pleasure mix
and strip me of my human name
and sacrifice it to the love
of pleasure you keep within your ribs
and show me the stars
you keep below your skin
and tell me of the scars
you wear proudly on your heart
tell me no lies
and I’ll give you my truth
and with a silent word
and a burning kiss
let me remind you
why we sin

At the rooftop sitting,
My mind keeps on wondering.
Sun has set minutes ago,
But everything seems so slow.
As the wind touches my skin,
The feeling of sadness comes crashing in.
All I see is darkness,
Making everything look heartless.

This is me trying to be better.
This is me trying to move on.
I'm writing a goodbye letter
to the person I was, frowned upon.
From all the scars, cuts and bruises,
fresh scented flowers will bloom.
The heartaches are my muses,
and my recovery will be a heirloom.

-m.b

The sea rumbles,
It fills his heart with dread,
The sky opens and thunder rolls
Across the silver clouds.

The old sailor ties the ropes,
And watches the sea,
Its temperament familiar to his aged eyes.

The sea shrieks,
The bowels of the great monstrosity
Open and exposed.

The boy stares into the icy depths,
His mind scrabbling for sanity,
But with a deep breath, he dives.

He lands among the feeble flowers,
The grizzled sailor above him screaming for help,
For his son who jumped into the sea.

He sees a mermaid,
Her tail shiny and beautiful against the currents,
Shining a lovely green.

She grabs his hand,
And pulls him ever under.

Breath is coming slowly now,
And his vision is fading.
The mermaid is no longer there.

And he is drowning in the stormy sea.

We are elaborate animals made of wood
earth, flowing like water into the veins
of the sky.

The sun being a fist of lava, and the night
being an enticing molar—we are
a succession of tides, being swallowed
by successions of day; and how beautifully
we wilt in the presence of joy.

The moon may be nothing
but a luminous
stone

and to eat the poetry of it
is how one chokes
on love

but the romance of morning
is that if by midnight
you are alive, that is joy.