As we travel
     through the hills and valleys
          the calms and the storms
The words
     strewn and carefully placed
Lead each of us to experience

His joy
Her heartaches
His regret
Her boasting

There is one here who wails
Suggesting she suffers from slings and arrows
When
     in fact
Her wounds are self inflicted
She begs mercy
But deserves only disdain
She is a maurauder
     the quintessential wolf in sheepskin
Her only comfort comes from
     licking
     and
     *******
     the
     bones
Of the few and fair she pledged protection
     lying a tangled mass
     a macabre resemblance of
     pick up sticks
     in her corrupt cage of  corpses

sometimes
it feels as though
I've died
a thousand times
this minute
this day
this year
this life
always to
reawaken
missing
one more piece of
my heart
my mind
my soul
wondering if
there will come
a time
of
sweet
nothingness

My hand to hold
My heart to keep
My thigh to caress
My gaze to capture
My fingertips to ****
My ****** to coax
My fire to burn