The man lay upon the city bench, his eyes closed against the day.
Dark aged skin warmed against the bleached and crackled paint.
Shadows of humanity are the only clouds to cross his mood,
a hastened pace helps avert its formless gaze when passing by.
What judgments has the world heaped upon him, or he upon his-self,
that has brought him to this space of civic consideration?
Is he ignorant of the angst he’s caused to be set upon our bliss?
To how disconcerting to the whole, his social presence is?
He is the dying form of a comrade seen through the smoke of the day’s long battle.
The one who is forsaken to preserve our flimsy rationales,
least we be brought low in some vain attempt to save our dignity.
Whose eyes once open might catch us in their noēsis gaze,
and hold us there unable to avert their silent condemnation.
Yet they are closed.
And our troubles stir him not.

I am establishing self into
own vision; swallowed some of
My Own stolen ink: chewing on the pen from the front desk.
—tongue was aflame and bitter.
"Well," said self, "I better get more used to the taste of ink." —looked at me
in the rearview. "At least you look Dead Handsome with blacked-out, bruis-ed hickies on your lips."
And I popped my collar up.
It made me look distinguished, so I kept it there—. Opened car door and spit black bugs and blood against the snow.
Quickly realized then, how I could make the ground my canvas.

Teardrops fall from the heavens,
Tasting of ashes
From the world below...

Spinning
Twirling
blur.

Frozen teardrops
The world is still.

The more we reach out
The more we fall
We are insignificant
To the world
The universe
Existence
That's why there is Faith
That's why
There is Death
That's why
Denial exists
In this
Finite infinity
-A cloaked wall.

Your face is...
Sane
Beautiful.
Your mind
Twisted
Black
Insane
A monster...
Wearing the face
Of a woman
Wronged.

With all their fake faces
And empty hollow hearts;
Clinging
for a warmth
That does not exist...
Anymore.

Perhaps
In a single motion
He fell
Wind in his hair
The sky brightening
His eyes closed
Listening to the music of a faraway land
Slight smile on his face
If only he was sleeping.

Slowly
      Slowly
 Ever so slowly
        It falls
The droplet of rain
            Frozen
        Cold
  Changed out of shape
               Snowflake .

          Slowly it falls
               Twirling
            Spiraling
                 Hovering
        Then dropping
                 Lightly
       Yet not lightly enough
            To resist the pull
                  Of the Earth's core.
                      With it
                      Others fall.

I lie cold upon the marble stone
The moonlight shines
               Pale
                      Glowing
Illuminating the delicate tears
Like blue-tinged liquid crystals
That fall from my lover's eyes
Cold
Splashing on my cold body
Accusing
             Resentful
Sorrow and love combined.

  Her hair moved
  Blown by the grieving wind
  The endless locks of blue-black hair
     Like liquid night
        Shifting over alabaster skin
           Pointed ears now showing
        Her amethyst eyes
            Gleaming wet
The ethereal fire that once burned
        Dimmed
     Ashes blowing
The hearth now cold
Waking up isn't the hardest part
      It's saying goodbye.
The light drizzle
Becomes a heavy downpour
     of hateful rain.