What’s to become of a setting sun that cannot be with you always even though it will return in the morning to ask your sleepy eyes if you made love to the moon?

What’s to become of a solitary moon adorned with my kisses to be sent to you each night in remembrance of the past and a hope for a dream that is so old it has borne children that have taken their place in the heavens?

What’s to become of a dry creek bed that once ran wild to your seas in anticipation of becoming one in a mating ritual that can no longer move even the smallest pebble when once boulders shuddered to think of the passion play that ruled the night?

What’s to become of the lone wolf who howled each night in your forests that have now burned to the ground with not even a remnant of smoke from a fire that consumed our past lives and is merely ashen powder with no resemblance to the beauty that he once devoured?

What‘s to become of a stone tied to a leg attached to a body that once had a heart that was held in your hands and instead is drowning and decaying under the weight of oceans that will make quick work of its flesh leaving only the chain that mercilessly did your ***** work?

What’s to become of the abandoned sailboat with clanging hardware on a mast that stands alone without a sail to catch the wind; instead left to drift aimlessly while you walk away from the dock where you dropped the knife next to the cleat where you cut it loose and set it free?

your heart rate beats
uncontrollably
you look around
and everything is okay .
So you scream!
silently .
on the inside .
As though some force is taking control of you.
Your mind starts to race and you look across the table
at a familiar face,
Your okay
But not on the inside.

They look concerned,
they feel the suffering .
but can't explain.
You can't contain the feeling.
Your okay
But not on the inside.

Your heart want to jump out of your sleeve
through the ceiling
Are they looking? do they know me?
Why do they judge me?
Standing in line at the supermarket.
Smile, Smile, Smile.
No one can see It
Your okay
But not on the inside.

Just a few days ago I was invisible
Now I'm alone now,
the voices in my head
are having their fun
and their uncontrollable
I lay there I just take it
I don't go crazy, physically
I just take it
I know that It's just me
but I can't shake it
I'm okay
But not on the inside.

There's no reason
so it scares me
and it starts again
I'm in the same place
a vicious cycle
it perpetuates
and takes me on a bumpy ride
I'm okay.
But not on the inside.

This fear that keeps me up at night
like I'm ready for a fight
when the only enemy insight
is looking right into my eyes
the familiar glitter of my very own
brown eyes.
I'm okay
But not on the inside. sometimes.

Letting go is the wind during a storm, your emotions playing a tug of war.
No she isnt ready, let her grieve, let the stars give her a sign when she may start to be her old self again.
But what if this old self does not exist anymore. this new one is the real you,formed by tears, divorce, death, drinking and things your eyes cannot unsee. your friends say
"why are you so quite today?whats wrong"
i feel like shouting "DO YOU EVEN KNOW ME."
what if i want to be secluded in my own thoughts.
im still grieving
Let Me Remember What Could Have Been.

She quenches her thirst with
The tears of the inhabitants
Of sinkholes, claims them,
And gives birth to them anew.
Exhaling the winter wind, the
Scalding embers of December.

No one knows her name,
But you can confide in her.
Share your disarray, she will
Rectify you with her rhetoric.


She's seductive like suicide,
While I am as hung as a noose.
An irresistible demon, a potter
Shaping your every desire, a puppeteer
Manipulating the strings attached to your limbs.
Hailing from the same realm as Shang
Tsung, mortal anguish empowers her.

(c) 2014 Brandon Antonio Smith

I am
dry, high
slowly blinking
my mouth can't fathom
this whiplash of an after taste
experienced through experience
the taste of hatred wrapped in anguish
so masterfully disguised with sly
sarcasm rippling off that side
smirk creeping on angles
in darkness ebbing
into the noth-
ing-ness
I am


*s.q.