I saw the flames in her eyes
two small embers that raged
I felt unsure as to the
materials used for her kindling
the line is thin between
passion and loathing
and I did not know
whether I should embrace the heat
or run for water

"I'm actually kinda tired."
But I wasn't tired
I was hurting so bad
But I didn't want you to know
Just how bad you had wounded me
And just how much I couldn't let you go.
That I just lied to spare your feelings...
I actually couldn't sleep
C.k

As young children,
we most desired toys.
How precious they were,
on every occasion that gave.

We cherished our toys,
for the joy they brought.
Showing them off to others,
so proud of what we had.

But, eventually...
we grew tired of them.
Sometimes quickly,
they became worn and old.

Our interest elsewhere..
all the new toys out there.
Nobody wants used toys,
they're no good anymore.

It has to be shiny and better,
that's much more exciting.
So we discard our old toys,
after we've played them out.

She is obsessed with toys,
and I am her doll...
but now I am old and worn,
and playtime is over.

We are all moths
seeking the moon
but finding streetlights
instead.

*

-JBClaywell

© P&ZPublications

your breath left burn marks on my skin
your kisses tasted of strawberries,
smothered in whiskey.

your words made my brain overflow with love
i felt the blooming long before you knew,
it was love.

love is a temptation
with bellowing whispers and,
glassy eyes in the shadows.

love is another "please don't go",
an "it's for your own good",
another "goodbye".

when will it end?

It hits me like a tidal wave
Although I don't taste the salt
It rocks me like a song I cannot hear
Although I don't breathe in time
Abstract feelings no sense of control
Tired and twisted
Shivering so hard; my aching spine
I fall to the beat of your heartache
And crumble lower inside

i fantasize about stomping on the gas,
hitting the accelerator
as i approach the on-ramp
for the 408,
launching like a rocketship
headed straight for outer-space.

careen into the concrete
headlong—
scatter my brains
and body-parts across the wall
like a ******* splatter painting.

as lights blur together above me,
my head goes hazy,
dazed in this fugue state,
half-awake and thinking absently
of the city-lights
drifting listlessly overhead

like unidentifiable flying objects,
hovering over this interstate.
i wish they'd beam me up.
kidnapped by aliens,
taken to a galaxy far, far away
so i could forget
the contours of your face.