the girl screams at him,
'you do not have to walk this path alone,
you do not have to walk it all'
but the dread wolf cannot hear her
over the sound of the wind

her voice is raging in accusation,
yet she falls for it every time
the old god of betrayal apologizing,
for hunting alone once more

the fen'harel turns to stare at her
eyes fading from his warm color
bends down to kiss her,
brown eyes flashing to white

if he knew the truth on how this
would end,
why did the dread wolf
start hunting the sheep


if it was real,
why did he leave?

the sailors called the sirens beautiful
they wept, tearing out their hair
and tossed it into the ocean
turning it into seaweeds.

the sailors called the sirens beautiful
who then hid themselves in caves, till they passed
their skin growing pale and lifeless
till feathers emerged from their hands.

the sailors called the sirens beautiful
who decided to mutilate their legs
and scar their feet
so they would no longer be human.

the sailors called the sirens beautiful
and the creatures wailed as loud as they could,
screeching noises, ringing
but sounded only like bells to men.

the sailors called the sirens beautiful
but they didn't see beauty or sin
instead,
walking vessels
an empty name
and a prize to win.

fish weaving in water
cold intake, ***** in
and exhales
crashing,
rolling.

sails on mast
once white with victory
yellowed, left to rot
to fall
shaking lures
and hasty hooks

fragile craft struggling to stay afloat,
thanks the waters
when it crashes to shore.
thanks the sailors
for smoking.

the man walks with his lover
and grips her hand
stopping himself,
from rubbing her palm

all through dinner
of candles and praises
he stops himself
from staring at her beauty

and while they make love
with short breaths and sheets
biting his tongue,
from saying "i love you"

the evening has stilled
intertwined legs and holding her close
he lays awake
and wonders where she is

how natural this feels
like water flowing against a smooth stone
your voice echoing in to the corners of my lungs
and smell,
weaving between the strands of my hair

it's never simple with you is it
the princess who ripped her own dress
and killed the queen on shards of mirror mirror
who knew the apple was poisoned
and ate it, laughing

it's never easy with you is it
the girl who refused to scrub the floors
but left the cinders light
to watch the house burn down

it's never fair with you is it
the one who cut her hair with a sword
and adorned the garments of another world
and refused to save anyone but herself

she goes to bed in his arms
tired from her day with friends

i go to bed drunk
because it's the only way
to shut the **** up