As I lie here bleeding.
I think to myself
what could have been?
I think about the wonders of the world
the shining stars
the ice that breaks with a gentle blade at the ends of a shoe
A dance.
Oh, my darling
How I go mad sometimes
How I go mad when you’re not here to patch me right back up
I wonder about the days when we were together.
Half a person
As what am I with the most vital part of me dying.
Wine red.
How you hated wine.
Despised it
Would you hate me now, darling?
The way you’d look at me
Like I was the most important thing on the planet.
Don’t hate me now darling.

The marks of the dead were placed on the backs of their necks,
and swallowed whole by the universe they were.
The rain of acid tortured their skin, unbeknownst by others.
Only they were to feel,
were to endure the wrath of the unknown.
Standing knee deep in winter water as ice forms,
one could only hope for the purest of deaths.
And to be kept as one whole,
for one's beauty to be exquisitely divine even at ones death.
The world is, however, not one in their favor.
Not one to tidy up all the mistakes and lay a yellow brick road.
No, may there fates be tied together,
and may they free themselves of harm.

heartbreak hotel
sisters chapel
she slithers her hand into his
desperately clinging
spine goes breaking
adrenaline bursting
heartbeat shaking
her blue eyes unseemly, his

her smile aflutter
a place familiar
of saturated lies
ridden, desperate
and clinging
her fate masked not seeing
for she
lays on a graveyard
haunted, unhearing
hurting but not speaking
praying for a
lovers hotel

n.b.

She reminds me of Iceland.
Cold and beautiful
snow covered black seas
Mountain high in the air yelling to the sky.
Mystical crystal clear kaltes klares wasser.
The deep intrigue of its black nights.
Of its daylight of rose haze lights.
She reminds me of Iceland,
a far-away land meant not for me.
Many see her and marvel about her beauty.
She is the once-in-a-lifetime experience, she is the northern lights.
She is a star.
She reminds me of Iceland.
For you will find none like her at all.

i will not dissolve into loneliness with its pull and tug
loneliness is merely a greed
of what is not
i am plenty

i will be guided by gentle stars
as resentment and doubt have been caused from chasing after what is not mine
i already am built with a galaxy
i am plenty

i will bask in pure love and for that
i have plenty

My father bent his back, his finger pointed high at his hair
he preached to me in dismay
my child, do you not see?
With the grayness of my hair I bare knowledge that cannot compare. I can do as I so please, say as I so please as I have lived for almost a century

I could not believe my eyes for as his hair is gray mine is black, untouched, remaining of so called youth

Yet my brain lies under it, entrapped with my soul, with my being, and it has carried many over centuries, it has guided through the seven seas.
Its’ knowledge that it bares goes over that of gray hairs

My willingness to see to read and lay my eyes over all corners of the world, gives me an enlightenment not many have.

I may not know all but I carry wisdom brought by me through the pain you have entered to my world as a mere child, I have become my own guidance my own deity,

my flesh and blood are covered with gray hairs

I am my own mother, I am my own father

Yet you talk all night about how grand you are, how knowing you are, and for your age you only mean me well
how ignorant, childish it even shows you, ignoring what you have done.

I pity your superficiality, your unknowing knowingness,

You see a child, possibly the reflection of you.