sweet, sweet boy
i've seen you a-sittin' there
waiting for that older girl
with those bright eyes
and kind smile.

now southern boy
dont you drop a penny
cause she's a rich girl with class
and yer not gettin' her chastity
and yer not takin' her money
cause yer a proud son of an ***

and broken boy
why you still not takin' no bandages?
cause yer stubbornness is breakin' er
when yer the one who's bleedin'
oh, i can see it all repeatin'

what you dont know is she loves you
and yer in love too
but all this time you been thinking its sympathy
got this idea that you mean nothing to nobody
boy it's hurtin' er
it's hurtin me

cause baby boy
i see you as my own
im a-thinkin' you need to take a stand
she might be a stunner
only one who don take you as a sinner
but youve been forgettin'
that though shes a fine woman
y'always been a real good man

angel boy
seen you cryin' tears
shes paradin' round
with a polished fella'
but why you aint been askin' her
"whens the weddin'"
when you think its comin'
honey, no girl in love
shows up at some lib'ary
when theres a man who orders sherry
im a-sure you feel
but you don see it
and sure as nothin' do you believe it

waitin', waitin' boy
how long you gon be sittin' there
that girl gave you time
but you didnt use it
and now im crying'
cause son
i can tell theres still love
but shes been taken
and now yer a drunk

lost, lost boy
im a-beggin' here
find trust
cause i know its not her fault
and she thinks it was
and now we both afraid
cause you not even tryin' a-hide it
but yer becomin' yer father
and he was filled with hate

hes a gone, gone boy
im a sinner with a prayer
that her husband dies
an he drops the liquor
and they both survive


but, hes an old, old man

Once a day
I think of you
Your hair that grew white at 40
Your tending of the garden
How cats trailed you
as if your world was paced just right

Once a day
I fall for you
for your abundance of heels
your soothing voice
your gentle hands
your lack of plans, you loved to rest in Sunday's best
I fall because
you fell too

Once a day
I remember before
when the rich girl
gave it up
for the poor boy
and as I had to teach you everything
I remember thinking it was worth it
it's been worth it ever since

and once a day
all day long
I sit on my porch with eyes shut tight
listening for the rasping of worn down Janet
and her broken muffler
announcing your return

Well, it's a bit silly
because Janet's been compounded
and I know that despite all the efforts
you've been years grounded
and the folks in this town
have made sure I'm hounded
telling me once a while
to leave this place

Once a day
I've been waiting
I'm still waiting
I will wait

When am I permitted
to forget? When can I bury these memories?

The ones where you laughed, as I used to
Ones where you trembled in anticipation
before those shakes became
gut-wrenches

The ones where I overheard your men
who said you begged of God
over
and over
To let me forget you
as you had to forget me
amidst the smoke, ash, clicks and debris

And I wish I hadn't received that letter with
those unofficial Last Words
your comrade heard

Those weren't the ones I wanted most
they didn't set me free
I needed your: "I'm coming home"
You belong right here with me

And I wish I could forget
that there are memories
I can't remember

but with the truth of time
I've come to know
We were never One
Because Your Face
blurs
when my memories stir

And my tears are for the grave
you share
with another man
and a foot


I am thankful that the rows of crosses
have no faces

If I saw your face, I would beg for mercy
I'd plead anything to forget
that
I can't remember your eyes
or laugh

What I recall is a hollow man who screams.
Your voice that whispered
It's all a dream
is drowned out by that bellowing

And I can numb my eyes
to those images
but the knowledge still burns

Because I wish I could forget
that there are memories
I can't remember




                                         *What I recall is that you left
                                          on the eighth of November

In the deadest night on Whistle Hill
a ghostly fog did give me chills
for through the misty, twisting white
I saw swing fro some wild eyes.

Thence broke through a face near cold
yet in his depths was gleaming bold
the darkest shine, did'st tell me nein
stay back, the sloe claims wild eyes.

How I knew, the choice was his
for eyes as those are short to live
but what he wished, I did decide
I thought afraid, his wild eyes

Why shun't he change his look on time
for dark's not dark but in the night
I reached through mist, and soothed his cry
his life had left him child eyes

For child eyes have yet to see
they think they're wild, search for free
they look for lifeless peace of mind
evolving into wild eyes

So now a man on Whistle Hill
searches long, through wind and chill
for'is eyes of old, the quitting kind
lest he might save, those wild eyes.

Haunting and longing
entangle my arms
limbs stretching so far
but they don't even match my height

We might reach for stars
but you
you could obtain cosmos

It's wrong, too strenuous
Maybe I can
Moreover do i want to?
No. no no no

I'm gasping
Simple is what I dream about

Haa   Hah

I love my dreams
perhaps because they are unobtainable
and no matter how often
You can, you will!
I can/andwill not

But tonight these sheets are too bright
I see them gleam in my darkness
It crawls beneath me

"Look at me! Your blank canvas!
      -    paint the world."

I let darkness devour me.
This is my apocalypse of shadows.

She could have been so much more
what drove her to madness
nobody comes back from an unbalance
such as hers: pitch and shimmer

This is my dream
I've settled in satisfaction
and I adore it all
I cannot recall a time I felt more alive.

Haa    Hah   Hah

...I cannot recall daylight

hmm? what importance does...

Shhhhh, whisper my shadows
*come deeper.

Hurry up and disregard me
disentangle from me
leave me ravaged and wrangled and slow
heavy and weak from every inch of you that had blended well
into the crooks.

It took you just a single look to capture me
enrapture my eyes
How I swirled in the delicacy of your lies
It was wickedly wonderful, thrilling
I was willing to be tortured, abused, mortified
It was the perfect sort of killing
drowning and I loved the water
blazing and I loved the sun
bleeding but I loved the blood, that mud from us
that drug

Without you here I've begun to thrive
Incredibly alive!!!
Yet, I start to rain when the thunder booms
I commence the pain in this empty room
I feel the silence, that deathly cold
as my spirit molds into beautiful gold.

This freedom air is growing sparse
My soul freshly bared
left open, frozen

Don't stay there, I need you here.
Pull me down to your broken layer

I knew it would hurt to see you again.
Did I stop loving you?
Jamais
but I mistook my heart for that of a wanderer's
my eyes would get lost in the distance
I never saw yours begging that I'd stay
that soft chant
reste   reste   reste
I hear the calling now
et mon coeur, I am sorry
Je suis très désolée mon bébé
peut-être
because I lost you though you never strayed
or because your heart was put to rest
while I became wordly
and lonley
et j'ai decouvert
you were the only one who'd ever matter
e vorrei ritornare ma
les mots don't get through

I think it hurts most to keep a pull in your heart
your mind letting you know that quelquechose
was forgotten that held unparalled significance
in all those should have beens

Je ne t'ai jamais oublié
mais tu as fait
et c'est bon pour tu

but now I have to float away
encore
parce que je ne peux pas observer
tu et elle
                                                            ­        è mi e ti
                                                                ­  o ti e nessuno

on that first date
I'll shatter glass if I see you kiss

but darling, know I'll always return
I'll keep waiting until your alone
wait to see you eyes shine with our memories
caro mio, I'll be standing in front of you très vite

                le dico      per piacere


Reste     Reste    Reste

I wouldn't take a single step away again, my love.


Should you present her with a ring
I wouldn't ever greet home again
and if I'm able to keep strong
I'd meet people in my travels.
I'd try, only for you, resist the graveyard

but even now, your voice sometimes crackles
my heart hears, rest   rest   rest
I'd give anything you wish


                     Don't let my unstable mind bind your decision
                       It's a part of my soul that was never your fault
                         It wavers and crashes and gently glides
                            Don't let my turmoil ruin your sand


        **Ti voglio bene

I've thoughts about the Swallows
and laments for my own
I've ears for tales
from sailor boys
who got to bring them home

The majesty of the thralling blue
entices me so vastly
but it's a land of sea I've never knew
Gaze o're the port
Await the crew
Pretend that ship come sailin' in
holds my own tattoos

But years ago I heard the news
of that return
that wasn't coming
The whales and waves
had 'come the graves
the Locker claimed
eight rocker'

But with my grief I felt not fear
though the depths
gulped my dear
And I've still the wish
of crossing tides
but by superstition
of the Hearty Folk
who prowl the shores
I shall abide!

And the legend uses the Swallow
one to depart
one on return
but I'd fall short
to qualify
for the journey coming home

With whopper tales I fell in love
That love took the rest
such is the Sea
I'll keep to the ground
easy to be found
though still dreamin' of
sailing free

But,

I.

can't.

ever.

simply put
my boys are dead
There's none to wait for me.

You're a beauty.
Haven't I told you this?
                   Darling why can't you hear me?

Hush, no don't think of it - let me
take that back. I know why.
Because for all my screaming
their whispers are louder

              Please,
Please don't forget
this broken, unsure shadow you're becoming
isn't you
Not all of you.
Even as you crumble I can spot your light
your sweet, gentle soul
that curses and demeans to protect yourself
but you never mean it
and so I can't keep my eyes off of you

but my heart is speaking
telling me:

demons destroy
but make a beautiful mess
I begin to see more
but I start to know less

I see how the scars lie deep in your wrists
but I come up with nothing
there's no way to fix you
because you aren't defeated
Sweetheart, you're lost
Can't you find me?


Find me Treasure, I'm calling!


                                                      ­        she made more scars
                                                           fell too hard
                                                         and no one heard from her again



It's killing me, Love
My voice never wavered - steady all through.
just once
just once
you should have listened to me
and believed in you




                                  **i once felt ruined and ripped apart
                                            i just smile now
                                      remembering that I can sew

She was wicked
because
she strutted through my kitchen barefoot
my glasses perched upon her nose
in a t-shirt
that was incredibly ****
though her dancing
resembled a frog.
She was wicked
because
my heart didn't break
it shattered
and the cruel fate of my love
is to continuously retrieve the pieces she tampered with
weld them together
because
I refuse to let go
of the memories.

She was twisted
in a way
we were practically intertwined
our bodies felt right
our minds were in tune
She was twisted
in a way
that I misunderstood
because she said she'd leave
but her laughs kept ringing
until I forgot the sting
in every way that I could
of those words
that meant
I'm leaving for good.

little girl
I want you to keep everything that makes you strong
I want you to treasure
the reason you can still stand tall
I want you to be wild
and free with desire
Ignore their calls, feed your fire

and little girl
how can you be hurt so many times?
your soul is young
you tongue is gold
I've never seen you yet turn cold
and I want you to stay
though you shan't be long
so hold your head high little girl
don't conform to the brokenness
let your creaking be a different kind
than the the overwhelming, the openness
that wickedness has dared to spread
little girl don't creep back with the rest
Keep trying your best
I don't want you left for dead

little girl
you are only 65
I'm telling you
you still have time
so hold on to your wits
and shine
and then
your glow might last my lifetime

In this mist I can't quite see my edges properly
I'm coping on the level of
both rational and almost raving
and I want to shine
which isn't much, just a firefly light
but I'm in the midst of susurration
and they're not gentle, and there's no calming breeze to carry me
because my wings have been closed for a long time
and I can only beg
but to whom?
It doesn't feel sincere
when I'm not even sure
But I promise that I mean it
because these tears aren't for my own benefit
they are to show you that I've still a little fight left
enough to wrap myself in
Because now, I'm only fighting for myself
Although I was always told to upraise the ones reaching
and I'm not content, I am trying
and I need
a transformation
but I can't croak out "Save me".
Even as I dangle over this puddle, and I work up courage
courage to find your ears
in hopes that you'll hear me,
I also know I'm losing strength
becoming heavier
I am certain that I'm now too heavy for you, I will pull you with me
so I will wait longer
searching the mist
for someone with superhuman strength
and I will grow more tired
until that hand comes
and discovers
that my weight it otherworldly, now
and they will have to choose
if I am worth the struggle.

The devil will hope to cheat
but God's Will decides.

the thump thump from the pump
has a ****** gurgle
that gushes and glides through a closed system

but with the touch of air
screams pierce deep inside the hollow drums
and the thrum of feet flailing
has introduced a maniacal laugh so crass
it drowns the wails
and the pump stops
at the same resounding moment when the clock goes

tick tock

tick


gone


and all that's left is a silent stream
and the loudest drip

drop

drip

you've ever seen

"The King's not I," declared the emperor.
And then he told them this:

Weak, ashamed and cowering
I wept for fear of time,
As I watched molasses passing
And the masses caught in line

Alas, a strong man knocked me hard
And it rattled in my head:
Was I perhaps the foolish one
shaking in their footsteps?

I tossed and turned and ever I yearned
to enlighten myself where I could

My knowledge was further
My presence much larger
My advice was the wiser
A beacon I was
for those with the urge
from way down below
to follow my road
and rise higher.

But even those were blown away
when I straightened my back that fateful day.
The crowds were small
As I stood up tall
Up
and
Up

Above them all.

And my superiority
Was finalized
As they robed me and adorned me
With a crown to fit my pedestal
As I did deserve such things.

But they do not call me king
For kings are gods above men
Me: I am the Emperor
A god above the kings.

Hush, my darling
watch
wait
Slip one foot over the edge.
Find that one weak spot and press
letting the cracks scream and spit and hiss.
Until nothing remains but a dark abyss
that's calling, begging you to fall.

Hear an ocean raging, seething, foaming
at the mouth. Wanting to lick up any piece of you,
to serenade you, promising desires before the curl.
The curl that pulls you into a peaceful lull just ahead of the
crunch
that collapses your breath and pushes
rivers into your lungs.

See an illusion.
A tropical paradise beckoning.
Beauty from a distance with devouring teeth.
Not whole, swallowed, painful, but brief. Rather,
slowly - one ache at a time.
An ant sting, small, but trickling poison
into a stream that pumps through your ankle. Then a bubbling,
ghastly surface that won't release the throbbing. Still more.
Silence precedes
the serpent's trike.
Taking with, all dilemmas in one torturous
Moment. Wrongly counted as a blessing. Unbearable,
but better than the old pain, for awhile.
And more than pain is the hopeless knowledge: there's no boat
to sail you back.

Feel the blistering desert heat.
Lips that crack and bleed, releasing a sweet juice
into your unquenchable throat. Sweat that drips
driving you nuts from knowing
that water is wasted...

Know.

Know the burning seas that are nothing more
than your mind
discovering the darkest side.
And nothing less.

Cry for all the lights you can't turn to. Can't bring to life
because they'll break you.
Let that hole open so wide that there's no mistaking it
but for the darkness is possesses.
Then pull that foot back and stand
on solid ground.
You've seen, heard and felt your demons.

You've waited
and watched,
You're
Safe, my darling.

1937

bushido invasion
memory still vivid in the Chinese
of a slaughter
prisoners
chopped and lobbed into the river
display their heads
let the next line kiss the remains
but the time is ticking
and the water is only pink
prisoners
mowed down
with bullets
and laughter
they can turn and swim
Japanese aim is good
not one makes it to the other side
the pink
is a deep red flood
becoming a dam
with the bodies of
children
ladies
gentlemen

why did those murdered forget
the purple mountain legend
when it burns
the city falls
why did they not flee faster

the policy issued
plunder
burn
******
do not let that little boy
take revenge
5 years old
they severed him

Japanese leaders saw a chance
to remove any pity
in the solider
they ripped out
humanity
inserted
brutality

training exercise
hoist your bayonet
plunge forward
twist
extract
plunge
twist
extract
men with bound wrists
considered subhuman
butchered
plunge
twist
spit

routine puts soldiers at a disadvantage
fire is added
fields are swamped with oil
and laced with people
patrolled edges
keep the cries alive
the only release
death

movement is needed
tanks must pass
chatting soldiers hang out the sides
wheels roll over the bodies
filling the ditches
carcasses
and
wounded
if there is not enough
they found the closest Chinese
and added it to the pile

competition
2 leaders
in a fight to show superiority
uptake a challenge
to win is 100
swords are withdrawn
ignore its' eyes
the race
a beheading
lost count
up the stakes
150

only the beginning
for the women

a hunt commences
females do not leave the house
there is not one in the streets
rounded up
army trucks
bringing in loads
******* like animals
chained to racks
*****
commonly gang-*****
bleeding to death
aged under 8
over 80
a pregnant women
***** to death
her fetus cut out
and destroyed
encouragement
from higher ups

and the advice given
pikankan is acceptable
every warrior should
do not let them talk
**** the pigs
when they are done being women

more than 20,000
maybe less than 80,000
defiled
in the carnage

journalist support
with authentic recounts

but with time
confused hospitalization
of the soldiers
who puked every meal
and gagged from inside out
as the horrors ate them

the only relief
an international safety zone
perhaps 20 Westerners
to help a mere 300,000
only half
at intervals
Japanese crossed the fence
for the women hunt
for Chinese soldiers
recognized by calloused hands

irony
******* on a Westerner arm
a symbol
as he aided
survivors of the massacre
and the Nazis in Nanking
aghast
leaked information
on the horrors
and
****** ordered silence

a single surgeon
a lucky boy with only one bayonet puncture
another
missing eyes
missing ears
half a nose from
100 tied together
set on fire

Japanese photography
of bonding moments
as they watched
a house packed tight
panicked people on roofs
to escape flames
jumping

6-8 weeks later

more refined brutality
enforced prostitution
and intake of *****
****** cigarettes for children

the West
in ignorance
watched the German rise
forgot responsibility
to humanity
in the Asian wars

no apology
denial
unfair hatred
of later innocent Japanese generations
mention of Hiroshima
amuses some Chinese
doesn't bother others
it's not everyone
that's still too many

lacking sympathy
the road to brutality
lingers

Succumb. Collapse.
Let yourself fall into every trap.
Then love. Cry. Learn.
And Grow.
By the time you know.
You're basking in the glow,
you've lived.
There's nothing better for you to give.

This pounding is much too harsh. Always aching with the drum of my truth as it slaps me in the face. My fat jiggles in a horrendous fashion, I don't move with grace, but thunder. I blunder, wishing to keep up with your pace. I want the stride of your beautiful. I want to stay youthful, but my metabolism is slacking and I hear the snickers, so I'll keep my eyes glued down. At least I keep score; I see days I don't eat, versus days of defeat, I'm a fat-*** puppy always sniffing for treats. And I get sick of the stale lines telling me I'm beautiful. Because only awfully gorgeous people are the ones to speak, and they tell me to gain more? It's not a chore, I'm not resisting when I secretly want to snack. NO, I just forget for a moment and shove some in like a zombie extra-diseased as fat.
I agree, I'm pathetically weak, but people don't understand that it hurts more to know that my power of will is low than to see this mass of mountainous freak.

The rattling door as the wind whistles
the calls of the crows amongst the fields
shuffling feet that stirs the dirt
you can't imagine the power it yields

The grunts, the sighs from every mouth
the clicks, the clacks on the keyboard
the whine of a lonely pup
I've never heard that kind of cord

When the music dips and climbs
and we feel the pounding bass
as it stalls before the drop
then, we're locked
in a quiet place

Then waves in the air
and the quivering ground
are drowned to death
by shrieking sounds

But what you hear
comes nowhere near
to the Song of Thumps
that guides my world

So don't pretend you
feel the pounding floor
the way that I do

Honey, when I first saw your face
I was thinking
she's pristine
and I know the look you gave meant
I've never been more unclean

A year passed by
I spoke by heart
You seem untouched to me
You frowned at that and revealed those
ghastly
scars of the deepest degree

And the day that I insisted
you'd always been intact
you rolled your eyes and stripped
away the layers hiding cracks

Even after, when I declared
you're whole and bright and pure
you raged and cried and begged
then why's it so hard to endure

And when you had laid bare your all
to confute my observations
you saw yourself through my eyes

*such a beautiful creation

It scares me when someone says
It's always darkest before the dawn
Then isn't it also
Brightest before the night

Also the phrase
That mightn't measure up:
It gets better
What if better isn't good enough?

I lose willpower with the cry
"You can do it!"
Over half of the time
You most definitely cannot

Dear goodness, I don't like the phrase
Kick back and relax
It sounds as if someone has gone somewhere
While all I recall is successfully breathing

And it pains me to hear
Everybody starts as a beginner
How come I'm the black sheep
Who stays on beginner level

I dislike the word sure-fire
Perhaps it means you will succeed
But I lean more towards
Certainly-burning in a pit of flames

Oh, I detest when people give the advice
One step at a time
That's very limiting
If I follow those words

I also don't care for the motto
Take a leap of faith
It's not the greatest go-to
When there's a monster waiting to catch you

To top it all, a Lion King song frightens the bejeebers out of me
"Can you feel the love tonight. It is where we are."
If there is no We can I feel it?
And I know it's sung between lovers, but what if it's me and a stranger?

Ah, Macbeth, has told us
"To be or not to be? That is the question."
Too many souls ponder this
It should not be a question- just be

**** it all, I can't handle to think
Love is blind
If that happens to be true
I'm sure I'll send love where it's not needed

And worst of all I hate the lie we tell:
I can't survive without you
Then how on earth were we living in the past?
And perhaps then, the big question to be:
Can I go back?

Her smile is infectious.
She's both delicate and beautiful
And I can't find the logic
that makes me so resentful.

My words are ice, are cutting
But, I can't hold them back
The torrent keeps on coming
'til her demeanor cracks

I hear her wounded echos
But she's stranded there, alone
And there's none to blame for her abuse
I did it on my own.

And as her cries call to me
Guilt stirs
So does sympathy
But, I'm trying to teach a worthy lesson
Those tears
won't mean
protection.


I'm trying hard to lend a hand.
One day, she'll come to understand.
Then, that anguish in her eyes
won't destroy her
on the inside.

See,
each whipping
- from my temper -
gives
an opportunity.
Like ones I've used
to wrap myself
in walls
that boast security.




                                           *All this is disastrous
                                    her heart is filled with madness
                                                    an anger
                                                          a­lways
                                                    feeding­
                                             but she didn't show
                                               now she can't tell
                                          her life's a twisted Hell

there is a boy who sits in the rain. Right smack on the ground, in the asphalt and dirt, but mud will not ***** further a stain of his token. and this boy is not forgiven, he is desperately lost in the state of broken-barely living which he feels suits him best. for this boy is willing to open wide, take the perverted inside for a price outweighing coins. At the moment they join, in whispered breath, he collects a secret as cold as death. They range from immoral to revolting; each twisted and shameless, yet not enough to dissuade the boy from his task. because this boy is searching for a murderer, solely to ask:

does the guilt make it your fault?

               they promised it was not mine at all

And each secret held in his chest has two culprits or more. More than one have committed the same folly. They are disturbed and cracked but not caught, living freely. The filth has a chance to wash clean; they are able to repair themselves. But the murderers? No second chances. Thus they do not come to the boy; they are found by the law. Visible in society and chained in view of the innocent, this boy’s ears echoes with their sins. All the killers of people, spouses, strangers, parents, children, friends, vibrancy. All because of anger, revenge, fetishes, sicknesses...deemed despicable they were left to rot. and that eight year old boy could never understand why they granted him innocence when he was caught. and this twenty-three year old boy will sit in the rain, drenched in sweat as he visualizes the fire and feels the burns that rain cannot extinguish, whilst staring at an empty land plot. and this boy trembles, caressing an old, withered cigarette pack that is one short. Since years ago, this boy has not recognized his worth.

What are you feeling?
Are you stumbling back again?
What are you dreaming?
Have the nightmares worn the barriers thin?

Are you still trying?
Have they been lying to you?
Are you breaking so hard it feels like you're dying,
staying up all night, every night crying?

Stop.
They hear you - want to help you break through.
So long since you were encouraged
and you no longer feel worthless.
These tunnels that were caving were just them penetrating.
Pulling you out of the night
and into the light
giving you sight.

What are you seeing?
How can their tongues hold so much power?
Just can't let go; they made you whole.
You're caught in their blood-stained ropes.

One more sleep without the covers
they started out sweet
but turned to monsters.
You're open, exposed
but still they hovered.

Entered your dreams, forced you awake.
And with nowhere to hide, pain so clear on your face,
they caught it all on tape.

They see your tears,
were just trying to help you overcome your fears.
Giving you a courage
so you could stop being worthless.
The tunnels that were caving
were just them penetrating.
Bringing you out of the night
into the light
giving you sight.

What are you fearing?
Don't you have friends to help you now?
Why have your screams opened the doors to your doubts?

You're seeing before
that which was hidden
and confusion's masked your vision.
Is that a smile? or the icing?
To the push that sends you colliding.

Stop, they saved you!
Only to play you.
Farther into the lava flow, they're not letting go.
They'll never let go.

*

Girl, you'll make it.
Boy, you're breaking out of their hold
there's nothing but gold left for you.

Now you're climbing so high
that you're flying
up to the sky shining
lighting up the night.

Below they're screaming,
demanding a redo
to stop you from pulling through
But. They. Can't. Touch. You.

From above, you see the darkness
a hand reaching for the surface.
And as you dive, what's clouding your mind is:
Will I make it in time?

Desperately stretching, trying to give everything.
But he's letting go
losing hope
No longer willing to play
all of their games.

You hear yourself say:

What are you feeling?
Are you stumbling back again?
What are you dreaming?
Have the nightmares worn your barriers thin?

Still, keep on trying.
I know they've been lying to you.
You're not really dying.
Stop all your cries
that shatter the night

I'm here for you.

I would say I'm only mortal
bitter winds bite
flower petals fall
I'm left with half of a silky rose
and I never know if I loved her or not

I'll only ever be mortal
my pain is not my gain
I crave
all the time
but not for time
not for forever
because the wind was once bitter
filling my soul with the litter
of human remains
the ones who stayed

I wish I wasn't mortal
fate and destiny mean nothing
I'd be born for something great
because my wounds would be soft memories
memories I needn't speak
I save that for the weak
and my weak days
...decades
if I wasn't mortal

It's tearful, this amount of joy
I am Mortal.
Time counts
choices matter
and my value rises

I've been distorted by a fleeting monster
that lingers wrapped between my legs
These sheets offer comfort at the slightest glance
But give them a thorough look
and you're entranced by the most disturbingly beautiful reflection
I can see
And what I see is the claws that rip into a face
I couldn't label as my own
Because from the sinking nails, all I feel is a gentle stroke

But the voices!
Assuredly are not mine-
I do not remember creating the sounds
So the dreams that speak
Must be only bed creaks
Forget that I'm lying on the ground

But frantic shivers have passed
I do not doubt my own mouth
Because the silence
cried out
"who's hurting me?"

but why should I answer
It's time to sleep
Pleasantly
with eyes shut tight
it blocks all sight
of the monster's creep