Barbed words
arsenic laced
draw blood from the fickle,
cracked and flayed
this brittle heart
cries out as mercy weeps.
Flaws once endearing
bring disgust
as contempt marches in
to dispel the myth we created.
A return to walls,
my worth reflected
within the safety of mirrors
as beauty hides decay
beneath radiant dishonesty.
Solace will not be found within the dawn.
Painted and smiling
I will become the lie you chose.

*listen to the silence of the breaking of my heart

The morning rain
incessantly taps my window
in hope of response.
It calls me down to frosted beaches
with tarnished rocks and angry seas.
There lays the peace my soul desires,
amongst the waves my heart once claimed as home.

Take flight upon the wistful breeze
mourn not the loss of mortal shell
let go of all with quiet ease
for those who loved you loved you well.

Then we shall sing a prayer for thee
a light to guide in passing peace
that you may rest forever free
as morning brings your souls release.

I am the disappeared
my name spoken no more
by the tongues of zealous lovers.
I will not weep as my eyes look upon my banished heart
nor will I revel in it's decay
I will only mourn that time in it's passing is not as brief as your passion for my smile.

I believed a life of solitude would suit me
and mostly it has suited me a treat
but when my tongue is bitten raw
in the company of others
I feel so ******* lonely
I could weep
.

a collaboration with Calpurnia Mockingbird*

If you have something to say, say it. Don't bite your tongue, swallow those words down, set them free.

Set them free that I may hear them, feel them crashing into my consciousness and lifting up my eyes to yours.

Make a wish as candles gutter, wish for me, for us, for an end to this mess of limbs and longing.

Say your prayers, kneel before all that you've ever wanted and plead for remorse.

Sing your song, others may dance to the melody but the rhythm will always be ours alone.

Write me a letter in indelible ink, that those words will always stain my world and sting my eyes.

Take my hand, my beating heart within your palm, so the world may know that once, we loved.

Funny how a photograph can pump blood
I only have one of you, it isn't mine
it sits here backlit
shared with all that would gladly drown in those mischief eyes.
Your smile, a moment of calm, a second of perfection caught, always brings my own.
There is no beauty like yours, no work of art has ever made me want to overflow with passion the way you do. I could write countless poems, a thousand odes to your dimples, a million sonnets to your curls, a billion lovesongs to your eyes to no avail. So I'll laugh at your jokes, and be a sturdy shoulder, a friend.  I'll wish the best for you always, while your heart keeps my secret safe. Poets shouldn't fall in love with the unloved, there aren't enough words to describe the agony.