Abandoned dusty in the attic
A shadow flitters around the edge
Caressing the smoky veil of glass,
Searching to remember his first waking moment,
When he had become but a phantom
Of a man-
but alas... it had been always.

Silently knocking on the wall
Which holds him from the other side-
You saunter by and blink
And shun the one moment you could have seen
And he is forgotten from the ones who never knew him
And the fabric
Runs like soot over his world.

His eyes see but the ghost of the substantial,
His world imaginary staring through a window of glass
From which shines an impossible prism
Cutting a path through the smoky din
The dream-dust settles, making it but a circle
Glowing in the light
That he could live in another’s eyes.

The mirror shatters.
Crushing glass slashing shards into the air
Shrieks erupt as the phantasm is
For the first time known,
The storm that had been hidden in that one-way mirror
Now unleashed, yet
You avert your eyes as if it was still a pane of glass.

Slowly she raised her tired eyes
and began to tally for me
my innumerable inadequacies.
I leaned back tired and shaken
ready to ******* bitter medicine.
There is no sadder statement said about me than the truth,
independence and self reliance present themselves as virtues
but i have come to realize they are the only things
that have led me to be as proud
and as lonely
as i truly am.
Is this all my fault?
Is it in fault,
that i wish i had followed sheep like and blissful
into the norm that breeds satisfaction
or at least some numb equivalent?
For all of you
I will smile,
Wave,
Glisten,
Grimace,
Weep,
and bare wide my yellowed teeth.
Because the bliss that we call freedom,
is just the most subconscious part of obedience.

I chose the narrow path
less trod and
not well-worn
Entangled in briars and brambles
I knew my skin would be torn

As I ran along
voices whispered
taunting, jeering, mocking
my decision to take
the narrow road

But another voice penetrated the darkness
a blanket of hope
laying over all my fears
Gently reminding
this path leads home

As I ran I oft stumbled
was quick to falter and fall
Soon I understood
why this path seemed empty
and unworn

For in the moments
when I could
no longer even crawl
strong arms reached out
to carry me to the throne

by Katy Owens, December 2012

Oh, this is why I hate love!
How I used to moon over it;
shape it and craft it and run after it
in my brambles,
how I used to indulge it in my *****
protect it from any uncivil desecration
cherish it for its wilfulness
relish it for its greed;
how I tainted my heart with its fake scent!
It just dawneth on me!
Oh how I fervently remembereth the scene; the very afternoon scene, before me:
I was heaving my dull steps against the sheepish grounds;
so peaceful in their breezy slumbers;
unlike the busy grass afield!
their dainty colours blackened by the whirring clouds from afar.
Hung cozily amongst the sky, whose childishness wasth adjourned by
the sleeping rain!
Oh but it was none yet coldeth but temperate;
when his moorish figure, blent into the naturalness of the afternoonth;
retreated into the lingering scene,
swiftly and lightly as the chirruping birdth aloft,
as if no anguish was within reach,
as wildly glistening as the mirth of the old den!
How my soul warmed towards the sight of him,
and on he went to relate his selfish story.
How I celebrated it - its giddy, gullible outset!
How I endorse its unknowing innocence!
How I adorned it with my passion!
His reclamation proceeded,
I was but astounded to hark to the rest;
into it he amorously poured the account of a bizarre creature;
namely a stranger;
invariably a woman!
How insolent!
He named her his love;
he waveth his moronic praise at hers;
at her charm, andth not mineth!
I was spurned, my heart was churned;
despite my stranded efforts to keep my pair of
relenting eyes
unblinking;
I steadied my legs, I was more than ready to
bounce and go
sway myself away from this gloomy tragedy
as before me the story undesired unfolded:
my love was repressed, my heart was
bludgeoned, heartily bludgeoned,
and I was silenced; could no longer feelth the tinges of blood
in my latent veins.
He hath slaughtered my peace!
My inner visions, hopes, and dreams!
I hath lost all of which!
I hath lost my shrieks; I could not voice my despair;
yet I could not utter my grief!
I was cursed and condemned;
my soul was appallingly dishonored;
my entirety is for lifelong anger,
desolation, ignominy and utmost desperation!
My crossness against the Creator arose,
like a wave of torment,
a surge of unbecomingth animosity,
as to no matter how I suppressed it unthinkingly,
all ended in vain:
My stern heart shan't ever melt to love again.
Oh my love, my love,
my princeth, my deviousth prince,
the only one I was so ardently fond of
how could thou deepen my misery?
How could thou ****** my sweetest virginal affection
in the midst of my isolation?
Like the sultry willows
whose memories unshaken, unbitten in the most
melodious, but pallid from the heath
in this musty, salubrious air
my blooming flowers hath died
I am brokeneth, I am torn!
I am writhing in my vainness,
my foolish longing, unmissed and unsung by the dandy branches aboveth
Dancing in my own blueness, weariness that is both livid
and unforgiving
scared by the heartless world
in the course of this barren winter.
Winter with no whiteness;
winter unholy and fulleth of diminutive, evil suffrage.
How ungodly!
I am raked into pieces;
and this is what remains.
This is my misery; oh how I could not riseth above the misery itself!
This is my solemn admonition,
this is my fate!
I have no right to love,
to embrace and to be embraced,
and from this day on I wanth but to dismiss my love;
onto my heart was bestowed not serene affection but intelligence;
and intellect is far better regarded than love!
How sully, narrow, and vicious love is!
How unimportant it is in the eyes of glory,
and the sea of fictitious admiration.
I quit the monstrousness of yon outer devastation;
I take hold of my pen,
and swim deeper into my whining words, again.

I am in love with fire. I want to cut the throats of kings. I want to drink dark red wine with strong-hearted women (if you sing to me/I will love you). No God or man would dare deny me. I am the master of my own  reality. I scream at the top of my lungs until my throat gives out. Men wish to be me and beg to hunt at my side. As for women though/a wise man would not boast to a rose. The fire burns within me and I fear no other than myself. Into dark nights I go singing and all evil I greet with a  laugh and a sharp knife.

There came a time,
Not far in the past enough for the pain to be numb,
The memories still swirl around in my head,
His hands were on me and nobody heard the screams,
Now every man I see, I see his face,
Somebody tell me how to cope with that,
I relive the trauma,
The scratches and scars,
Now I can't hear a knock on the **** door,
Without alarms going off in my head,
Now tell me how you shielded me from this,
How I was the favorite,
If this was my reward,
I hope I'm your last pick,
I didn't know why he picked me,
I don't know why I didn't tell you,
I just need a moment alone,
To wish this away,
But it never goes away,
I want to go away.