Bluebells hanging down from their stems
No metal is there
But still you hear the ringing

Brushing by a jasmine bush
Its branch leaving a scratch on my arm
But its petals, a wonderful fragrance in my memory.

The big blue
Step on something sharp
A mystery of what is below

in dim light
smoke fills the room
lays a dusty filter
over the walls
covers my eyes

i close the windows
the blinds
the curtains
shut the door
lay a towel at the bottom
and suppress all light

i allow the fumes
to arrest my throat
entangle my body
around itself
and leave me fetal

and as my consciousness
becomes scarce
a smile spreads through my lips
and onto my face
my body, as numb as can be

wrinkled sheets
fall asleep with me
strangle me

as i wake
in a surprise sweat
searching the mattress
for the feeling of flesh
against mine

for the smoothness of skin
and goosebumps rubbed together
seeking warmth

for the curve of her breast
as she lay
back against my chest

for the bumps of her spine
as she arches her back
embraces a pillow
i search for her smell
honeysuckle and almond

i search for the taste
of her mouth, her cheek,
her neck

all i feel
is the soft
delicate folds in the fabric
of my blanket

the only source of heat
that i have left

she left

A queen she is called
Rich with light hair
Bright like the sun
It shines.

And in her eyes
The deepest sea's
Savage waves
Are calmed with the batting of long, dark lashes


Her lips,
Like pomegranate
Together or apart
Keep a perfectly hidden kiss

The skin she occupies:
Immaculate
Like the body
She wears with grace

Yet within this ruler
The flawlessness
Of her exterior
Has vanished.

Inside her brain,
Dark brooding
Thoughts
Roam around.

Senseless ideas
Nestle in her heart
Looking for the passage
To the outside world.

Her locked mind
Has time
To wander
Behind shut lips.

To infest with
Musings of better places,
Of welcome speech,
And worlds beyond this.

Yet,
She cannot
Get through this life
With such thoughts

Soon enough
They begin
To gnaw
Her

Breaking her down
Piece by pretty piece.
The beauty of her face
Will soon be absent,

An ugly exterior
To match
What had been
Flooding her insides.

All I own is Time.
Time is all Mine.
I can spend it any way I want,
On anything I want,
Any Time I want.
Once you spend something like Money,
It becomes the possession of someone else.
But when you spend Time
It becomes lost, wasted.
That time can never be used again.
It's my choice to use as I wish.
All I own is Time.
Time is all Mine.