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 Dec 2020 Sythin Voxe
Max Neumann
god flew through my coffee this morning;
an intellectual crow entered my apartment,
and it guzzled a sip of the holy brew
me? i didn't take notice, just took notes

a blind writer who seeks the extraordinary,
distracted by a strayed quest for himself
left eye red, the right one black, wolfishly
a tribe of suicidals shattered my eye sight

they were dancing in trance
they were singing in kid's voices:

"we forgotten who we are; our skins crumbling
we don't want to live inside your body; no!
we won't be your voice anymore; we be leaving

golemland is our destination, shelter of letters"
then, the tribe of suicidals left, depriving me of words
 Sep 2020 Sythin Voxe
Nicole
Light devoid, no silver-hued moon,

Shadows claim my soul too soon.

With silence strong, I’m left alone,

With aching bones and heart forlorn.

The cold seeps in, an evil embrace,

My only warmth: his face.

His face.
I wish I was good enough,
But, in reality,
I guess I never will be.
Not now,
not ever.
I know this because,
I am me.

The truth is I am not her,
I know I am not her,
I can not make you laugh as she can,
Because I am not her.
I am me.

I am not pretty,
I am not smart,
I am not funny,
I am not kind,
sometimes I am happy,
But, most times I am depressed.
I am me.

There are things I can do better than her;
I can love you like she can not,
I am faithful to you and only you,
I would die for just not live for you,
I can be the shoulder you cry on,
I can be a one night stand if needed,
I can stand by your side on your worst day,
I can praise you when you can’t do it yourself,
I can smile if you need me to,
I can be whoever you need me to be,
I just can’t be her;
I am me.

I will never be good enough for you,
I will always be your last choice,
I won’t ever even be your second choice,
I will be your last choice,
Sadly, I know this,
Sadly, I’m okay with this,
But then again,
I am me.
My father walked me down the aisle,
But my mother held my arm.
He went with me,
But we went not towards the altar,
But towards the door.

My father walked me down the aisle,
And the ***** rang through the church,
Humming through the elaborate crown molding,
Carved by my ancestors.

He went,
Not beside me,
But before me,
And I watched,
As he was illuminated by the bright,
Overbearing,
Texas sun.

My father walked me down the aisle,
But I did not wear white.
My father walked me in silence,
And I shed tears not for a man standing at the altar,
But for the one I would never see again.

My father walked me down the aisle,
And no veil obscured my face.
All eyes were upon me, but not for my pristine beauty,
Instead for my clenched jaw and furrowed brow,
Severe and fierce to distract from my glassy eyes.

My father did not leave me at the end of our walk to sit beside my mother.
She clung to me for support and sobbed breathlessly,
Loudly,
Unavoidably,
And I carried her with one hand,
My sister the other,
And walked towards my future.
A future family,
Not one person more,
But one person less.
I walked,
One final time,
With him.

My father walked me down the aisle,
And I will never forget it.
Hundreds of eyes isolating my family from the crowd,
Slow and muffled sounds drowning in the deafening beat of my heart,
Blurred faces staring,
Black heels clacking against the cobbled path from the church,
The anguished wails of my mother,
The whimpering of my sister,
And the wooden box that glided before us,
Pulling,
A string tied to our patriarch,
The pin key of our family,
Pulled taut and then snipped with the slam of the hearse doors.

My father walked me down the aisle,
Before I had a chance to grow up.
He walked me,
Out of the church,
Away from the altar,
Never to be walked again.
 Feb 2020 Sythin Voxe
Dark Eyes
Make love to me
like you drink wine
savoring pauses
between our heartbeats
that we may love longer
enjoying . . . prolonging
ceremonial moments
swirling in our glass
live me . . . love me
in delightful sips
let me linger
upon your lips
as though all of our time
were just one bottle . . . of wine

dv 12.14.2014
 Feb 2020 Sythin Voxe
Ellis Reyes
Lemon VW Beetle
Pink and green Polo shirt seatcovers
Hippie flowers and surf shop stickers
And her Confirmation Rosary
glimmering in the fading light
She waves
“Call you later.”
The sunset is beautiful

PCH is busy this time of day
Surfers, commuters, tourists
and local kids, like us,
going our own ways
The sunset is beautiful.

Sirens pierce the twilight calm

There are conflicting reports
But
All include the words
Rollover.  Ejected.  Fatality.

Through my tears
I stare at the ocean
The sunset is beautiful
I remember
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