I am in the change
the shift
in between winds of soulful words
suspending in their own reasons
I cannot gather to understand them

How I waste to wonder through it
as fleeting Muses cease their inspiration
all the while delicate time passes

what quiet hours fall into me
pouring my soul over
and over

my heart wonders

which cup will my Muse
serve me

my new words

You are the terrorist
Smashing porcelain
Sauntering
Passing through
Your presence
Broad and fleeting
But Virgo’s birthed anew

Goodbye to you
And your combustive yellow bile
Representing no true fire
Yet here you go again
Smashing porcelain
Cause all I am to you
Is a doll you got use to

You are the terrorist
But I,
I am Mercury bending fire
Smashing porcelain
Sauntering
Passing through

As I sang him to sleep
My winter gave way to his warm
While the moon danced on my skin
fever burned deeper than I’ve ever known
Or dared to have shown
To him
And he wondered what it was about me
How in silence I invaded his demeanor
Making life smell so much sweeter
Heavy is my love
like a slow rising fever
And in absence, I know I love him
As he holds in his hand, my pearl
And me, an empty shell of a girl
With armor at my feet
Forever waiting for his warm
While I sing myself
To sleep

He loves me when he loves me
He convinces me
I’m the kind who serves up suicide with every Ciroc poured
in the neon blue of this town
where dreams turn cold but where,
He says,
I,
I am as hot as the blue light flame
He opens the Pandora’s curiosity in me
With warm breath and a silent scream
he makes me say his name
I know there’s fiction in the space between us
covered in polyurethane that some would consider toxic
but where I,
I rub my flesh into the smooth and dip fingers into my inkwell
He makes me an artist
He has a way
Hurt me a little
Make me cry
Rubbing this little pendulum of mine
I want to know I knew you even before I knew you
Savor you like an oyster
Memorize you
Hold you under my tongue
Learn you by heart so when you leave
I can go to the inkwell, again
*Orlando

It starts as a simple untruth
a spun tale of convenience that slips through well travelled lips
It's intent
never malicious
as it falls before another
muddying what was
before its creation
vividly clear
Its very presence changing forever a path that had great promise
to a road undesirable and dark
It matters not the reason it was cast
but it still LIES in the way just the same
Once set
it cannot be undone
as you have unintentionally ruined with your verbal carelessness
what could have been...

I’m not
Addicted
To your addictions
(I think to myself with the smell of cigarette smoke and *** lingering in the air)
Two days later
My thighs still ache to the touch
Somehow, it always hurts after we
****.
And you
Smeared into my sheets
And you
Blue between my thighs
Not from your banging
But from my heavy slamming
And that’s when I think
“I’m not addicted to his addictions”
(as I press rewind)
“I don’t smoke”

All these lemons appear in my life
yellow is always so pleasing to the eye
like sunshine
How many can I juggle before I slip and die
Bitter to the taste
Rinds are a waste
I'll squeeze them all
throw the juice in your face
I hate lemonade

It was a Tuesday
I tripped in full stride
I blame the house which was fragrant with a stale caffeinated aroma
It seemed rational at the time going for a walk with bare feet on hot coals
I’ve done more
or less
For some perverse introspective frivolousness

I took the road less traveled
which looking back was more like a rutted, run-down  underground expressway
I kicked at beer cans
Tripped on broken guitar strings
Blotted melancholy on crumpled  cocktail napkins where now meaningless prose once had meaning
the ******* led my way
scattered carelessly
discarded thoughtlessly
left to clean up the mess

I walked past doors left open absentmindedly
deliberately pushing them closed
Passed windows broken where shards of glass still held a dim shine
Letting  my bloodied fingertips trace a path along the wall as I loitered

A few times I sat
mulling over the graffiti left behind
everyone leaves their mark
picking at loose paint with my fingernail at what I once thought important
now not even a decent curiosity
just reminders of wannabe artists whose color faded when they explored the same terrain

I walked farther deeper
into the all too Familiar  
down an almost unrecognizable hallway I never dared to venture
one I didn't even know existed
That’s when my fingertips ran into
red
velvet
wet
where my feet settled in fresh paint

Sinking into the red I felt a slow
steady drip from above splash on my lips
flushed with a burning need to suckle at the source

Drip

Drip

Drip

I smiled and thought

*Finally...  
an artist with some ******* talent!

Weeks of silence
(my ears they bled)
Resurrected today
(back from the dead)

Inhaling each and every verse
Possessed by some enchanted curse
He draws, and lures, and pulls me in
I'm absolutely lost in him
The way his words they capture me
Lace through limbs
Enrapture me
Bleeding out his polished prose
For whom he writes, I'll never know
He speaks of shadows and black silhouettes
My bleeding heart is not dead yet
I close my eyes and grind my hips
His words they drip down off my lips
Cascading to my blushing *******
I pull them close and there they rest
Embracing every syllable
Tormented that I let him go
At least today he shared with me
A little piece of him to see

I never got the chance to say
Before I burned a bridge that day
Thank you for that seed you grew
And all the love for me you drew

All my dreams
Are black and white
Colorless meaning
While I'm dreaming
Featureless faces
Claw at my flesh
A man?
A woman?
This dream is a mess
All I see
Are Cold black eyes
Frostbite burns
Between my thighs
Lost in darkness
another nightmare
I look for a savior
But you're not there
No knight in shining armor
To whisk me away
No tattooed prince
To save the day
Just me
Alone
In a twisted state
Fetal position
The shape I take
You'd think I'd know better
At this point in life
My dreams
by no means
resemble real life
Metaphors always
scramble my brain
I try to decode
Just to stay sane
Awake from my slumber
And all I can think…

Why can't I dream
In tangerine?