Todays sun felt lonely
Drenched in isolation
Melting for acceptance
Draping light upon empty carcasses
Feeling the gravity of the space between

An embrace no one can fulfill
Without the proper tools
The days will be spent empty
Full of giving solar flares of its former self
Begging for a better understanding
feeling altruism at the core

I wonder what's under your skin.
Sometimes
I see the glitter in your eyes
Of hidden things
Like the shine of silver minows in deep water
But then the sun comes out and blinds me
And I've lost the trail
Of that starlight that I know drags its soft fingers through the dark corners of your heart.
I want the long shadows it casts.
I want the  complicated, messy figures it throws up on the cave walls of your soul,
I want their unabashed wildness,
I want the savage way they will never keep still in one form.
I want the way they scare you and the way they thrill you.
We hide
So much in this life.
We hide from the world.
I will show you every edge of me
And I will map your edges
With tender hands and gentle words,
And awe.
I want in
To whatever makes you be.

In war everyone
carries something
for good luck
and protection.

A rabbit's foot,
a piece of twine,
their girl friend's
*******.

I had a mantra.

It was simply,
**** me.

When the ****
got hot and thick
and the tracers
reached out
their lovely,
lethal fingers

I would chant:
**** me, **** me,
**** me, **** me,

perhaps thinking
god would hear

and say,

for christ's sake
**** him and
get it over with,

but god was AWOL
(as usual)

so it worked
and I lived.

  ~mce

Thine leaves art wilted, flying to and fro,
And thy limbs reach out as if in sorrow.
"Dost thou not remember what once was held?”
Thy branches crack whilst leaves into dance meld.
The moon doth rise as children’s laughter rings.
Through the night thy old hollow solemnly sings
Of twisted grins and melancholy wolf cries,
And how every man thee meet sadly dies.
But thy eternal heartbreak shall not wane
Thy every breath will be met with pure pain;
Death shall not return thee to its icy grip.
Forevermore, thou shalt bring people to Death.
Until the rope that hangs on thine branch cease,
Cursed to be known only as The Hanging Tree.

Beside an ebbing northern sea
While stars awaken one by one,
We walk together, I and he.

He woos me with an easy grace
That proves him only half sincere;
A light smile flickers on his face.

To him love-making is an art,
And as a flutist plays a flute,
So does he play upon his heart

A music varied to his whim.
He has no use for love of mine,
He would not have me answer him.

To hide my eyes within the night
I watch the changeful lighthouse gleam
Alternately with red and white.

My laughter smites upon my ears,
So one who cries and wakes from sleep
Knows not it is himself he hears.

What if my voice should let him know
The mocking words were all a sham,
And lips that laugh could tremble so?

What if I lost the power to lie,
And he should only hear his name
In one low, broken cry?