How I wish I could grow wings,
I'd fly away
Maybe catch a ride on a shooting star,
Go to where the fairies play
I wonder if there's such a place
Where ballerinas with wings,
Dance in eternal grace
Where woodnymphs play music in the trees
And the fairies glide,
Upon the sweet smelling breeze
You'd never have to cry there,
Lovers never part
So you never have to worry,
About mending a broken heart
The flowers are all made of silk,
That way they never die
No one ever leaves you,
So there's no reason for "goodbye"
There's no winter chill,
The silk flowers always in bloom
And how it makes the fairies laugh,
To see the snow flakes fly in June
Sand castles last Forever there,
In a kingdom by the sea
The butterflies sing in tune,
With the woodnymphs music in the trees
So if I'm ever missing,
That is where I'll be
Playing with the fairies,
In that kingdom,
By the sea

My pen is my sword
and my strokes are broad
to cut away
at death and decay
the ink is the blood
that I have shed
my thoughts so real
you have read
to allow you to feel
my pain instead.

I write what I know
not for show
or to impress
I invest
my heart and soul
into every line and verse
my agony is real
every word I feel
or have felt
for this deal
I have been dealt
not aces
but deuces
yet I still reduce this
to a single atom
how can you fathom
this much pain
the mental strain
that it takes
from the moment I wake
till my last breath intake
I forsake all happiness
for the sake of anything less
then victory.

Do your ears deceive
or your eyes what you read
I will do anything to succeed
I was born battle ready
my arm grapple steady
for my life’s course
was already set
as my life force
is not easily met
no sat-nav needed
or teachers heeded
for I have featured
in so many battles
and always succeeded
could you take a fatal blow
to your temporal lobe
without being K.O'ed?
'cause I'm still walking
fighting fear with fear
still grinning ear to ear
I have no equal or even peer.

you are still pulp in my mouth
you are still dripping down my chin
a pit hard and breaking
hot like july

those quiet
lonely nights
when long shadows crawl over defeated days
and the red orange sun drowns beneath dark waves
a resonant loneliness
washes over me
dulling love and light
and hope
like the slow deliberate movement of the clock in the kitchen, hands that mark the passing time between jade scarabs
like the soft lilt of a sparrow left outside my window, alone in the twilight
as a church bell doles its distress, slow and deep in the distance, breaking the still darkness with its lament
water cannot cover the spectre of memory
I pour another whisky

serenity encompassing the shy masks
masked marble stone with the sliver of gold
two slits and a mouth to taste
those withering syllables left decadently on shore

masks, masks drinking roaming with haste
jumbles of words unspoken and texts never sent
interiors slashed as desire gathered and clashed

how long can our masks endure to the last?

last sip of golden beams
quench the sunlight with aching feet
last time stepping out the auditorium door
I swear, you were a great actor amidst the despair
last time you'll lay your eyes into another
getting lost trying to comprehend the dots
the last stroke of fear eradicated the moment
the fastens are unclasped,

fall
     tumbling
                     flying
                               spinning
                                              exhilaration
                                                                ­   clarity
                                                         ­                     weightless
as the mask becomes of no more
something like vertigo,
sudden visions of peripheral miracles
and yearn to feel your own cheekbones

alas, what a curse
to be born with the need to give away every piece of my cracked heart
yet even as a whole,
it is too small to move anyone else's.