the benches i always sit at are as cold as ice.
their metal structures scream at me to get off of them…

to leave them be and let them rust in silence and in solitude.
and i oblige to the request

that fireplace was a threshold for memories.

it was made of a brick,
red as you like,
that was older than you could imagine.

the fireplace had watched the families
sit before it for years,

it knew more stories than it could tell in a years time

Describing the beast as savage would have been too generous;
the helpless child could do nothing but stare.
He watched the creature tear the doe’s limp body limb from limb and shove the ****** spoils into its terrifying jaws.

they snagged on her gown
as she attempted to flee
the retched night that had gone horribly wrong,

they worked with the enemy
to ensure she would not escape this town,

piercing her satin embroidery
and tearing at the draped silk,

hooking into her flesh, softer than a rose’s petal.

she gasped as pain struck her
and little rivers of blood streamed down her skin

the moon shone in the sky
like a large luminescent platinum disc
in the dark of the night.

she stood as the edge of the wide pier
with her feet dangling down,
teasing the water with her boots.

the boy looked upon the gazing girl
and smiled to himself before walking over
and sitting himself down next to her.

she turned, surprised,
and he saw her face illuminate
brighter than all the stars in the sky
and even the moon herself…

with petals as white as the moon herself
the flower floated on the water
with the geisha watching from her window
she unraveled her long black hair
and gazed at the lilies
their dew shone in the light of the setting sun
and as the last light of day dimmed down,
she left the flowers in her secret pond
and returned to her tower above

i once had some oatmeal that was so bland it only brought up pictures of cardboard and parchment.
its amazing what a little brown sugar and raisins can do…

Little beads of perspiration began to form all over his skin, tanned by the sun's fury.

Jonah stared up at the sky and uttered a sigh of relief when a gentle breeze interrupted the unrelenting heat of the day.

Though the views were nice and he was never at risk of not having something to record or take note of in his water color-stained journal, Jonah knew he was a prisoner on the ship…

the rubber burned and made the nerves in her nasal cavity burn and singe.
she recoiled from the horrific fumes exhausting from the tires.
the day was blackened with smoke that rose past the peaks of the surrounding mountains and up to the stars above.

she kept dreaming of little towns and how she would love to simply escape to one, rent out a motel room and buy little berries and milk and coffee and teas and know everyone in the town.

she would have a leather bound book where she would write it all down and it would be stained with tea and flowers she had found.

she would buy countless disposables and use them all up in those towns

there were always the pumpkins
or cider
or the smell of pine
but the leaves.
the leaves.

different hues of scarlet
of amber
of tawny
and gold
all melting into one another’s lives,
interrupting their own deaths.

throwing a wild tantrum of color and aroma
before letting the wind take them
before they float and flutter down
dead.

the most beautiful death known to this world

a mixture of colors and laughter,
dancing and swirling around each other.

how lovely they were,
basking in their own light,
radiating off of them as they glowed with contentment.

the pair would never separate,
for they had no reason to neglect the other.

and so they danced,
from dream to dream,

simply existing to cherish one another
with all of their being
for the rest of their existence

The ship rocked and swayed back and forth in the calm blue waters.

Despite the subtle breeze and beautiful view,
Jonah couldn’t help but crouch down and hang his head between his legs
in an attempt to shake the sickening feeling he was experiencing.

How do they cope? Jonah thought,
envying the crew, who didn’t seem to be phased by the never ending tilts
or reek of dead fish surrounding them.

His jealous day dream was suddenly cut off as his miserable breakfast from earlier
made a reappearance over the edge of the ship.

the darkness had taken her away
with deceit and promise of an escape.
as it happened to be,

this path lead to a tunnel
which led to a cave with great wide jaws
and teeth of stalactites and stalagmites

one could marvel at for hours on end.

the cave ate her whole and she plummeted
into the world of misfortune and misery called Earth

The trunk was old,
older even than the old woman who it belonged to.

She had followed the trunk’s singing,
a harmony unlike any other she had heard before.

The song had beckoned her,
teasing her with the promise of adventure,
coaxing her with the hope of something new in her life.

It led her to a small door,
hidden behind old dresses
wrapped in plastic and smelling of her grandmother,
it had been waiting for someone to find her,
waiting for excitement.

her brush strokes
erupt on the page
leaving a fury of colors in its trail.

singing songs of feeling
of emotion
and rage

when the bristles
are close to withering out
it's voice grows raspy and pained

so it returns to its home:
familiar,
nourishing,
and chaotic

nice and freshly cleaned, she ran her nimble fingers down the strings that she easily tied around her waist.

it was embroidered with the same black stitching throughout,

giving her a lovely figure and a hint of mystery he adored…

dropping the vile,
she curled up next to the man lying on the bed

she'd always thought he looked so serene when he slept
she ran her fingers along his chest
creeping up to the dip above the collar bone
and back down to his ribs
tracing little patterns near his heart

eternally loving him,
knowing there would never be another...

her hand floated up and down
making the smallest of motions
with the most kind precision.

before drifting off, and joining him
in the only slumber which lasts forever...

The sky was as gray and bleak as ever and, as usual, it looked as though it was promising a rain.

His navy trench coat only made him look taller and enhanced his pale skin and prominent cheek bones.

He gazed down at the Thames and upturned his collar before walking away with his hands in his pockets, giving a little smirk as he thought about his earlier discovery at the lodge…

she entered the dimly light room in the dull apartment skeptically.
dreary wall paper surrounded her, though it was even more damp and dingy than that of what she had been expecting.

she dropped her ***** bag to the floor, darkened to a horrid brownish color.

and she wished with all her being she could return home and away from this undesirable den within her dream.

and so it flowed along the floor,
newly waxed and cleaned and polished,
just for the occasion.

it had layers upon layers of beauty
and she felt exquisite

The Prince looked upon her
in all her jewels and silks and satins

and felt nothing for her.
and so he turned his eyes away.

and looked upon his servant boy for comfort...

which he found without delay in the servant's face.
in his eyes...
and his lips...
curling up in just the slightest way,
almost undetectable.

It was public, the demonstration,
as they always were.

And everyone had gathered around.

The man cloaked in black shoved the woman
with her hands tied behind her back
and her hair pulled up out of the way.

As she knelt to her knees
and lowered her head
she slowly closed her eyes

and the audience grew so quiet,
you could hear her last breath leave her body

before the blade came hurdling down
seeking purchase at her neck.

it was up in the sunny mountains.
with green all around.
the little haven had four walls, painted in ivory white and had intricate little designs cut out in all shapes;

she sat there in half lotus and took a sip of the jasmine tea before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath in