frost like spirits our ancestors tread
floating on footsteps made of ash
while silently razors like ice slip
slowly over ignorant heads
blood is the currency red running
like rust
burnt to the faces of old gods and new
copper the taste of air
burned in june
earth tones speak of untold guilt

His name purred on her lips; 
She loved the way it
Rolled around on her tongue,
Loosened her vocal chords 

Every time she said 
his name aloud,
It felt as though she were 
Becoming more and more
Well versed in him; 
His character,
His very being

She's the girl with the Bambi Eyes
Hidden behind a pair
of heart-shaped sunglasses
The ones I bought her

I like to roll her name
off the tip of my tongue
from the pit
of the fire
of my *****

Great artists steal
She took my heart
and fueled it with temptation
and had me
fullfill her wish lists

with kisses of wishful thinking
if I thought I was going
to get more than pics

Seductive
snapshots
slipping
Something beautiful
in the back of my mind for once
'cause all I see dark
things sometimes

It'd be nice to shed some light
on the situation
like I'm worthy of enlightenment
we are all one narrative
choose your own anima archetype

******,
operative
word
plays
my heart like a harp
and makes life seem
more
harmonious

The more she stares me down
with
assisted
spontaneous
combustion
on her mind

Sometimes the crayon breaks in the middle of your drawing
That doesn't mean you stop; blend your sun-rays into skylines
You'll look like Van Gogh seeing
Setbacks as opportunities to find
Beauty you never would have thought to look for