at least you still have your heart
i'm molded glass and iron
things are ice and cold
metallic, lacking fire
no understanding, just being
waves floated and crashed
days lived and passed
stories told, forgotten
words spoken, promises broken
hermetics exposed, porcelain froze
perfection, a far distance
many planes, lands, wildernesses and visions
spirit awoken, undone and redone
sure to speak up or be forever a silenced pun


*s.q.

Religion has always been shaky ground for me.
I believed in God
until I was 11
and he killed off my baby sister.
After that, I had no God.
When I was 13, I began to pray again
and wear that sacred cross
around my neck on a dainty chain.
When I was 15, I fell in love with you.
I stopped praying.
My cross was replaced by a silver heart pendant.
A symbol of your love.
I fell asleep waiting for a text
from you every night,
so many nights in a row that praying became so out of routine that I didn't even try it anymore.
Now, you've left.
I have no God, once more.
Faith is such a scary thing. It's like walking out onto a frozen lake without checking the thickness of the ice first.
Tragically, our ice was paper thin.
I've fallen into the deep, cold waters of heartbreak.
My heart is a block of ice now.
Amen.

i am walking across thin ice
waiting to hear that final
crack
that lets me know
i am about to plunge
deep
into the fridgid water
and i know i wouldn't even fight
to come back up
because once i go down
i cant come back up.

Inner peace is a polar opposite
To this raging hell within my bursting mind
And madness overcomes this fantasy
Of finding some concord of any kind.
My spirit is prisoner to this storm
That whips licks of fire that burns to bone
While my heart is frozen, never to thaw
And their capsule is left to stand as stone.

I burn savagely,
and I burn alone.

Red is the only color I see,
I scorch people with my eyes,
I scar everything with my words.
When I burn,
they will burn with me,
and in the end we all die
from the strength of the flame.

I freeze silently,
and I freeze alone.

Everything has stopped working,
I can not move,
I can not rage forwards.
The ice numbs me,
my finger tips are turning black,
the frost continues to bite me
and I have no substance to burn.

Hell's said to be hot
But you were my truest hell
The subzero one

yes, you were all
straight-edges and knives weren't you

until the clouds dare drift
to colder skies
you melted right before

our eyes