The sun rose sideways over
Trees so full of birds I'd thought they'd
Taken the place of any
Real branches. The song came quiet, 
Making conquest of our opened ears,
And ******, if it all wasn't gorgeous.

The Jazz in it hummed loudly,
Asking whence the shakes began.
She screamed in an ear to
Inquire about the fun she's having. 
Stuck staring in a rear view,
With hope they're unaware of
Locked doors. 

Green-garnished, gold-rimmed eyes, and a
Brandished black mask, blocking the brightness,
But also the bad intentions. 
Let 'em know where you come from,
And they'll use it against you. 
Let them see where you're going: then, 
They run for the hills. 

"What's a vice worth, if you
Don't nourish it?"                
                                                               ­               What's a number, but an
                                                              ­                Excuse, or a limit?
"See, there's a countable
Amount of stuff, in this universe, but we're
Still unsure of what we're
Doing in life."

Gasping at the light's 
Bounce off foreign plants. 
Recollections of strengthened bonds,
Pressing heavy, into wet dirt
Of a previous day's rain. Fearing 
Faith in what you can't understand. 
Working for the worst people in the world. 
But because, you must 
Help, to exist. 

But break the bubble, 
Roll back those shoulders, tuck those wings
                                                           ­                   Maybe get the **** out of the car?
"I'm getting there, ******."

The pen trembles, the paper perspires,the hand remains steady. Or is the mind weary and reality an illusion within a dream?
Infatuated with harmonising every line. Your mind is violent but your words are quiet. incessantly bleeding the pen with no anguish, just anarchic serenity as you conclude with tranquil tragedies.

You left, and I
lament the
remnants of your
scent.

My dear Candy Crush
You are such a shameless tease
Stringing me along.

Eileen Auger
4/28/14

It's the quiet one's you hear.
The subconscious.
The shadows.
The darkness.
It speaks to me louder than the Sun ever did.
I live in those shadows for in those shadows I do not see, I do not judge, I can only feel.
One cannot hate what they cannot see.
Eyes rolling back, gazing into the oblivion,
Your moon dust frolics along the walls of my head.