Hallways of stone
My knees scrape against the cold lifeless floor
As condensation soaks into the fabric of my existence
I came looking for you and I found myself
Lost
Fallen before a door, densely metallic
No one in, no one out
There used to be light here once.
We could move through pathways freely
Tracing the space between our selves
Settling in one another with fluidity.

I am here alone now.

I write you letters often
Little invitations to return
Back to a place we used to be
Back when I could find you here
There was resistance then too
But you opened the door if I knocked enough
Fists pleading with steel gates
My hands are broken now
They were broken before but
Now
I stopped to bandage them

Do your walls have windows?
Can you still see me here?
Desperately craving connection
Hoping for a moment to see you
To feel your soul's energy again
For this hallway to hold life once more
Or am I invisible without the sound?
Without the pushing and fighting,
Do I cease to exist?

I know this isn't about me
Things are not that simplistic
But I thought
I taught you
How to love me


I tell you I feel disconnected
And you say You'll be fine
Right.
Ok.
I'm still here if you need anything
Still waiting in these damp halls
Alone with the hope of something more
Because I believe in you and in us
But I won't beg you to love me

“So there stood Matthew Arnold and this girl
With the cliffs of England crumbling away behind them,
And he said to her, "Try to be true to me,
And I'll do the same for you, for things are bad
All over, etc. etc." - Anthony Hecht

All I have ever been,
Is a girl
With the heart of a flower
Red in the hurricane winds
Red through the dust
That disguises the slaughter.

I can still see the bodies,
Red on the broken streets,
Red on the surface of the sea
Red on the plains that are rapidly darkling

And the ignorance is markedly
Growing.

The children bleed out in Aleppo,
in Gaza, Darfur, Yemen, Caracas, more;
Tiny bodies pressed between bricks
Like little flowers crushed in hard bindings,
Or innocence impaled on the blades of
Savagery and shame,

Like so many
Crucified prophets.

The puppeteers of these armies are

Irrevocably  

*******

Heartless;

Yet, let the wildflowers bloom
Reclaim the humanity that is ours to
Own. I command my heart to open like a sunflower to the moon.

We can’t ever give up.
We must keep standing
For all who are falling, kicked down the cliffs on bleeding knees,
Crawling.

Dig into the dust;
Plant a flowering heart in these arid crossings:

Grow here

Bright fields of compassion.

Let them bloom red,
Like our open hearts
Beating for our sons and daughters.

Why is it,
That something so necessary,
Seems so dreadful and bittersweet?

Why am I so sad,
Over moving on from,
Something that made me so sad?

Why do leaves fall of the trees?
Why do hairs fade to grey?
Why do things fail to remain consistent?

Why can’t I live forever?
Why can’t I seem to want to?
Why can’t this fear of change make sense?

Change,
A dwarf sucker of emotional algae,
These bits of change that we face,
In life,
Are merely a placeholder for temporary discomfort.

Run... run while you can
before the envelopment entraps you
encapsulating escape with leaden clouds
skies darkened by searing missiles
unburdening caches waiting
for the stirring of conflict
so easy to hijack
as hatred
screams
loudest
drowning
out the pleas
of nursing mothers
as children's faces fend off
old feuds and avarice of arms dealers

No matter how hard you try,
No matter how much you give,
You’ll never mean a **** to me,
You made your bed,
Now lay in it.
I love you.
Please tell me you miss me.

Conflagration,
Conflict & confusion.
Consternation,
What comes, and has been.
Condemnation,
Of fact, and of fiction.
Comatose.
One world, many nations

there is beauty in innocent intelligence
where the elder sister disturb the younger sister through the window i of class
just so that they can go back earlier
through the changing times of the world
and the storm of wild emotions
it is warm to know that life as humans ages and eons ago, likely shared the same experiences and innocent amusing through the times and ages
we cant ever escape our emotion but rather should deal with it
one way or another
we will never know how
there is just so many ways to handle
all most likely already been explored or trialed
it might work or not
we will not know
through the world
beyond innocent laugher and simple joy
the darkness and terror eludes
how can we stay pure and not judge with such
or how can we be a terror but find pureness
life and human world
is a wildy conflicting place
how can we know for sure
what is what

Wedded Bluff
You've made an invalid selection
The gal you picked was once nice
And she was once good in bed
Now it's all **** up worst **** way
You're stuck with a complaining wife
Three decades of pure ******* bliss