You sit on your brazen altar
worshipped as Venus
for your fake beauty
your feigned sincerity
corrupting anyone who listens
to your propaganda

whisks of dyed blonde hair
fall around your face in layers
so common a haircut
and this, so human
your greatest weapon?

I can’t watch you anymore,
so spiderlike,
catch the weaker men in your web
and with well thought out battle strategies
drain of them of every happiness
until they are broken
and alone

And these games are your life
once, they were mine too
but that was a decade ago
now, I have no desire
to play these breaking games.

White crystals dangling
from frozen tree limbs
symbolize the month of December
that's when your birthday is
Orange lights of numbered telephone buttons
surrounded by endless midnight
for the times we whispered to each other
until the sun peaked over the blue mountains
Yellowed pieces of parchment
that we carefully scripted our dreams on so long ago
my precise artist's hands shake slightly
as I touch the wet, slippery tip of my brush
to a memory on the multi-colored palette
and glide a deep red across the next part of the never-ending canvass
that special color is for my cheeks
on the starless night when you first summoned the courage to kiss me

Hidden deep within folds of twilight
Nestled far between sky and sycamore tree,
Your freedom lies, a weakened prisoner,
Take it.

Each summer day is meaningless
As I think of who she's molding you into
She who birthed you owns the right to your life
Your thoughts

And **** that woman
Who caught you in her thick, encasing, diamond web
Before you could even think for yourself
I say take it!

If not for yourself, for me
For nerf bullets in your chandelier
For piano lessons on cold December Sundays
And why won't you take it?

Shatter those boundaries
The wrought-iron cage she's placed around you
Embrace the foreign sky
For me.

Watercolor recollections,
Bleed away with rain
With the brilliant colors
All longing fades away
To have you hold me.

I miss you
And our hours together
color on pale canvas
like the face paint we used last Halloween
And I’d laugh when you’d tickle my nose

My hollow screams rebound
from every brick of our studio
Fragmented cries of someone not whole
You are in every direction here
Each canvas smeared with paint
is another trinket in your shrine

Like driftwood sculptures bobbing in still water
Long buried memories surface
But no blissful moment emerges
those are buried with you

We fought that night
Like wolves for their young,
Father’s for their daughter
Vicious and unrelenting.
Neither of us really won

But I long to forget
Cobblestone words, sharp
Driven from you in anger
Forced out of your mouth
An orphan wrenched from cold, dead hands

So I place our paintings on the doorstep
And the rain becomes an eraser
The color fades
Like runoff water from mountains

And with our watercolor creations,
All memories drain away
And I’m left with nothing
But smudges of paint on my skin
Inside our paradise.

Cries of the ******,
Laments of the undead,
Echo here.

This place is known for freedom
Yet liberation won’t be given
To the fallen many

Stone epitaphs surround the passerby
Everyone the same
They gaze, unwilling to feel

We will not remember the forgotten
The forsaken who were slaughtered for us
We will not remember.