is it possible to despise yourself so much that you can't feel anything anymore? possible to rely on the fragments of other people's morals and beliefs other than the oozing, hot and bright ones of your own numb mind?

are they still burning up there in my mind, melting inside my brain, scorching the veins, and scaring my tissue?

have my eyes ever looked so grey with ash or are they glazed, reflecting you?

if they aren't, I would ask someone to light a match, but sadly only I can do that.

-Julia Aubrey Rhodes-

In the beginning...
   There is certainty
In the beginning...
    Has come to pass
In the beginning...
   Is not the question
   The one you're meaning to ask

What happens
after all the greats
Have ceased to walk the earth
What happens when there's nothing left
to make you feel that hurt
When war has ceased
But peace won't rule
When greyness conquers man
What happens
When the darkness lights
The truths from which we ran

What God is sovereign
When Mercy ends
And judgement takes its place
What blood can wash
away the sins
And the demons we have faced
What fairy tales
breathe purpose
Into empty broken men

What happens
I pray tell me
what happens in the end

-M.E. Finley

Muted color
On darkest day                                          
There was a light
to show the way

In dreary towns
My eyes were bound
To the misty lights
Up on the cloud

What is that phenomenon?
Where did it go?
The place we are seeking
We shall never know.

As our eyes droop down
And our smiles go flat,
It is easy to see
That we shall never go back

To that muted color
On that darkest day
Where that light to guide us
Showed the way

Immortality is over
We are now doomed
To succumb to our future
As our destinies loomed.

As we were shot down
To the pits of Tartarus
My fate was no longer
Ambiguous

We were forgone
Forever to roam
The pitch black world
Always to moan

That muted color
On darkest day
Was unfortunately one
To never stay

if i could
i would trace the skyline of your body with my lips
and colour you in sunset with my fingertips

i would etch sonnets into your back
about the days and nights
that i lack your presence

my words would paint pictures of grey skies
because you are the sun
and all i see is rain when you are not around

gather up all the colours of your life,
hold on to your collection of stars,
so when the world decides to turn grey,
you can still find your rainbow in the sky,
no matter how dim the beam may be.

i.
what a mess you’ve made
of me
cause i’ve spent so much time in your eyes lately
and i like the way you smile when
you're falling apart  
over last call at the bar
i swear you look at me like i just
lifted a car
(surprised and confused and afraid and
amazed)
when i’m raving like a mad woman about
climate change and you keep the drinks
coming and my heart
pumping
all night
long.

ii.
the grey area
is not where good love goes to die
it is where good love is never born
thighs are kissed but hearts are not broken
and those of us who dwell there
prefer it that way
(but i don’t mind
if you stay)

iii.
though i would have preferred
if you’d kissed me earlier
and hurt me less,
with you i always take what i can get
i want you to teach me everything you know
about making love
and weapons of mass destruction
(why do ugly thoughts consume such a pretty mind?)
come here, baby
i am not the bad guy.

iv.
and i’ve been feeling restless
like my chest is on fire
thoughts twisted up
i told you with me its never enough
(and then it’s too much)
electrify me just to pull the plug
don’t you know it’s better with the lights on?
i’ve never felt so ******* untouched
as i have these last few nights
passion isn’t patient
but timing is everything,
right?
(i knew you’d change your mind)


t.m.

One: Smokey grey; the kind that blurs your vision or gathers in corners of ceilings that are somehow still not as high as you.
Two: The teal that masked the bedroom walls of my old home; the bedroom with nothing but a mattress on the floor and my unplugged television. I was eco-friendly, which leads me to
Three: Green: any and all greens. Mother Nature makes it obvious she loves its hues, and I strive to be one with this Earth.
Four: Whether fueled by anger or love, give me rose-colored shades and I'll rock 'em with grace and style like none before. My red blood boils with passion.
Five: Making concrete decisions is not my forte, so choosing a final favorite will leave me second guessing. Combine all the options and give me a rainbow, because when we see a color, it is actually that color being reflected while all the other colors are absorbed. They work together, as we should. You bring the crayons and I'll bring the blank canvas, let's paint the world rainbow together.