She walks in the rain, annoyed
As the hair she combed so perfectly
Dances freely with the wind,
A tangled mess; wild and unruly

She zips her jacket till her chin
As she continues on her path
It's another feeble attempt to
Shield herself from the clouds wrath

She walks, sidestepping puddles
Her brand new boots caked with muck
She reaches the bus stop, cursing
The dreary weather in which she's stuck

She waits for the bus, impatient
As raindrops fall upon her face
Oh, how she hates the icy breeze
That knocks her hood out of its place!

She waits; half drenched, half frozen
As thunder roars from the skies
As though haughtily boasting about
All the umbrellas that it's destroyed

Finally, the bus arrives;
Her saviour, her salvation!!!
Now she braces herself for
The long long ride to her destination.

Alone, standing among the ***** grave fields,
a crystal cylinder, Tower of the Tortured,
aspiring towards the void.

Marred bars circulate the Tower's depth.
The walls of torture outlined and gave
deathly void substance.

Diamond souls refracted empty light.
The hollowed trees crawl their roots,
interlacing life and death.

Hovering, creeping downward, they
swayed suspended. Among the hung
and through the trails poised one.

Emanating empty vibration with no substance to grasp..

Crumpled story sheets rested upon a shore,
lost in oscillation. Stumbling entities
unknown to light, covered marsh black,
and layered in blight.

Rest their starred eyes once in infinite time
upon an alien language. Retrieved and returned
to the pillar of slime.

Fading ash whispers off into the night.
No one lived in that tower but the
Crystal King of Death himself, Soldier of Fallen Light.

You wait in the elements, for a man who never comes.
You walk to the bus stop feeling hungry.
"There's a sandwich in my bag, but I have no box, it must be wet."

Ugh.

The elderly are getting in the way,
The teenagers making too much noise.

The bus is packed,
It's very steamy, yet cold.

You think about his no show.
You ponder whether he still thinks about it.

But before you know it...

Your thoughts turn back to;
The way my feet are cold and damp,
The way my coat smells like a wet dog,
The way my sandwich is soggy,
and
The way I waited 2 hours for a person who was never turning up.*

I am Miserable

I always find it strange
How a clear sunny sky
Can turn to a dark cloudy rainstorm
In the blink of an eye

Now there's nothing I can see
Beyond one hundred feet
Just my dear surroundings
My belongings and me

Where did you come from?
What brings you here?
What do you want with me?
What are you doing here?

How long are you going to stay?
When are you going to leave?
I have plans for tomorrow
Don't ruin them for me please

words tear me a new soul. i thought i discarded mine to the wind when sorrow alighted barely balancing on the barbed wire fence, wings dank and damp, mangy feather dropping into thick dusty underfoot
dusting me off, windex the glass around my innerworkings so you can watch them spin dizzy from your helium touch