he raises his hand
raises his head
***** a gun
and turns a key
he's not quite sure what he's looking for
but he can't stay here any longer
can't keep screaming into the quiet
can't keep gasping for breath
way out in space
he ***** a gun
turns a key
and he inches forward
he's desperate to find it
but not so sure he wants to see it
he spots it there
centimeters through the veil
mirror twins
only he can't tell
which one in real
and which one is an illusion
on cold reflective glass
the girl and the faceless thing
the nameless thing and the hopeless thing
he ***** a gun
and turns a key
and he tilts his head
and breathes
only he's forgotten that he can't breathe
so he chokes
and they turn
the girl and the faceless thing
or maybe it's one thing
a faceless girl

it's poetic, i think, how the
burning of cigarettes
creates a subtle glow at nightfall.

every inhale, the light burns brighter.
a smoker will
hold
the smoke for a second or two and then
release it to the sky.

habitual and addictive, just so, is
living yesterday when today is
bleak,
self-inebriation by clinging to things that once made you happy
instead of

releasing

and taking a new breath.
it's just a subtle glow,
on and
off,
beautiful, but not meant to last.

When the vicious breath of light
           devours the twilight
its screams into the eroding
                       collapse of its beauty.

The luminosity never shows you,
            never sinks you into it breath..
we only gaze at its refection's.

But when the candle fades and the
             wax becomes grim,
      then the pillow once again suffocates.

Within the place of onyx moments,
             beauty envelopes everything.
And above what was veiled shimmers
       beyond our comprehension and we gaze...

Breath softly into the night.
So I did
And the world
                                                         Fell Apart.
Like the tears,
As they fall from your eyes
At night,
                                                        I crumble.
The light I hold in my hands:
Burns, flickers, and fades.
As do my feelings.
The difference? Feelings stay
Unlike the flowers
                                                      They wither,
But I,
Burn, flicker, and fade
Till I drown memorialized.
And in the iris of your eyes,
I burn flicker and fade
As the world around me
                                                      Falls Apart.

Retracted are these tendons -
Resolved on remaining in their calcified cages;
When breath arrives, it is blown back
And when warmth envelopes, it is posted away promptly.
Seeking only that which is ineffectual -
Side-tracking all traumatic pain
For the comfort of the constant daily struggle.
Speaking only to the bleak and familiar
In colours reddish and blue to the coloured lens above its eyes;
A body of uncomfortable comfort and avoidant pleasure
Sits upon its earthly thrown and ponders -
Ponders all that it will reject today and the day after.

I started out as Glass
Not a bottle
or a window
Just glass
shattered everywhere
But that is just what I am
Broken.

Demur nature's forces and prehend a leaf
The wind is an experienced pitcher and a fan, may I ask are you?
As the leaf drifts in the draught, catch this one, we'll have a laugh over a draught
The dimensions and weight of the frond will have your senses to and thro'
Importance of equanimity is essential, do not blink, and for goodness sake do not hit that tree
A few numerous attempts to catch that elusive bract, you're out of breath
However, even though nature's force is cunning, she'll give your breath back
Now the leaf is at knee level, baseball slide, football tackle, or hockey dive, ready your hands
The stiple's erratic motion is bewildering as the tension of the chance arise's
And just as nature and yourself breath out the prehend fall's in the pond with a graceful landing