(my greatest failure - five years later)


What is this covet
Inside of my mind,
This subtle inscription
So purely defined?

When fairy-tales ceased
And images stopped
I padlocked my door
Yet, inside you walked

The present; suspended
Your hand on the frame
Your question extended
Amidst my derange.

Constructing the green
Encased in your eyes
Surrounded in gold. . .
Abundant inside

Under your slumber
I found my abyss;
Subtle as thunder
Perpetual hunger. . .

Holding the moon;
Discovering you
Our lives, intertwined
By golden fused blue.

Once, you accused me
Of not needing you
Yet, nothing you’d utter
Could be more untrue

No matter how distant,
Undone and askew;
No matter the question
I’ll always keep you.

Rigid, my mind
Tight fastened in thought
Alone, save the loudest
Of volumes you sought;

A rhythm surrounds me:
The beat never stops.
My wrist – ever pounding
Sleeve dripping, nonstop.

These sounds are resources
You’ll never see bought –
So rare, and so special
Yet, mine? They are not.

“Gems?” You do ponder,
As pure as could be.
You hear not this beating?
Live hearts seal my sleeve!

I gathered each one
From men and from lovers
Then, left them undone
To never recover

These hearts I collect
As one might a stamp,
Each choking my wrist;
All broken and damp

As wet hearts do bleed
Each torn from one’s chest
The blood, you’ll not see
It’s ink they express!

“Now, why not your own?”
You wonder, distressed
But my chest is empty:
Forlorn, dispossessed.

My heart is no more –
I searched sea to see.
“How so?” You deplore.
‘Twas taken from me!

In place of a heart
I now hold a pen;
I’ll never be whole –
Likewise to all them:

I **** all these lovers
Must spare not these men
For one sole ingredient
Will satisfy pen.

Such hearts I do mention
Once, twice, and again
Draw ribbons of ink,
Gliding fresh to my pen

Rigid, your mind
Interrupting my thoughts
Becoming the loudest
Of volumes not sought

“Release and replace!”
A mere noise; you infest;
Oh, leave me alone,
Or your heart will be next!

~-~-~

Promise after promise
Fell into my head
I carried them with me,
I took them to bed

So hopeful, I waited;
To hold your forever
Intentions negated
This jaded endeavor

Yet, lies soon took shape
And doubt would take hold
Your dormant coercion
Cementing the mold.

You never came through
You never came back
The woodchips, they faded
The bracelets, I lacked

Trapped under my instincts
My innocence, vanished
The moon was relinquished
My purity, famished

Young as I was
I’ll never forget
The impact you left me;
Your stark epithet. . .

You took something good,
You found something pure
My will cut in half
Rose white, and demure.


The root of my psyche
You’ve yet to discern,
Who plundered my childhood;
My chastity, burned.

Existence forgotten;
Defined from within
I’ll never evade you
You’re etched in my skin.

Scar after scar
Fell into my arm
Your ink swam my bloodstream
Your slander, your charm

I swindled the rabbit
And powdered my nose
Freefalling in choices
Defining your prose.

With tasty white pills,
A hand in my throat
A liver that’s grilled;
The bible I quote.

With no one on earth
To save me from me
I sampled the bottle
From under our tree.

I cannot begin
Nor pretend to describe
What happened to Maple,
Who am I inside?

The loneliest girl
In the entire world
The events I’d mistaken
The chastity; hurled


All that I know
And all that I think;
Is this monster within me
Was born in a blink

But who’d tune in now?
The opinions are set.
My mind is jay walking
The lines of regret.

The holes in my person
The doubt I can’t sever;
My husk of normalcy
Braving the weather. . .

For what you don’t know
Is what you can’t nurse
Assumptions you draw
Are making me worse.

Conclusions concocted
Your story, enhanced
My path interrupted
Dismissed by a glance.

So I’ll say goodbye;
There’s no seeds to sew
For this is my truth. . .
Confession bestowed.

Still treading his words
That flood to the brink;
Harassed, used, and left
In less than a BLINK.

Your fingers of mesmer
Trace patterns on me,
Your words are the pavement;
Your eyes are the sea

Treading in words
That flood to the brink;
Your presence, my muse
Your essence, my ink.