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as she laid her head
upon her daughters tiny chest
she became acutely aware
of every fragile breath

her tender hand
stroking the golden hair 
from the angelic face
that was no longer smiling

silent tears rolling
falling freely upon her cheeks
her heart tearing apart 
like shredded confetti

a guttural scream
begging for release
the feverish praying
affording no comfort

the beating of her tiny heart
slowing

the early morning sun
peaking through the window

her mother still weeping

and praying

singing quietly
to her precious jewel
as she slips away

exactly five days later...

the dead leaves
dancing around her feet 
the chilly autumn wind
taking hold of her very soul
 
standing there
much like a granite statue
with closed eyes

unable to move
 
hearing her own heartbeat
the little girls laughter
still fresh in her memory
 
biting her lip
attempting to hold back the flood of tears 
that threaten to consume her

all concept of time fading
along with the late afternoon sun
 
tugging at her jacket zipper 
hoping to stave off the bitter wind 
shivering deep inside 
yet refusing to move

unable to leave her little girl

there had been so many people
that had come to see her
in her final resting place

sorrowful faces
just a blur to her now
their words and best wishes
escaped her

the words didn’t matter
nothing did anymore

kneeling in front of the tiny gravestone
clasping her hands tightly together 
trying to symbolically represent the bond 
between herself and her daughter

feeling the moistness
of the freshly laid dirt 
slowly seeping
through the knees of her pants

trying to pray...
but for what she wonders 

her precious angel gone 

no more giggles

no more late night secrets
 
and no more fishy kisses

there is nothing more than 
a gaping black hole 
where her heart used to be

she claws at the dirt and screams...
as our daily labors
silently drip
from our weary fingers

throbbing eyes
search the heavens above
and witness
the last of
the richly colored day
b
  o
    w
       i
         n
           g
oh so gracefully
to the night

the sun sinking slowly
fading to blue on blue

the fleeting sounds
of the well worked day
slowly dwindling
to an inaudible hum

the nights watchful eye
comes upon the earth
and
the moons face becomes
a celestial sculpture of sorts

the dark sky
painting the night
with its palette of shadows
one delicate stroke at a time

innumerable stars
scattered across the velvet black
with their crystalline lights
beaming
like a tiara of midnight pearls

and then...

commonplace objects
take on
the strangest of characteristics
black jetted clouds
begin swirling on the frosty night air
with their over reaching tendrils

and  

the tallest of trees gather close
much like a solitary forest wall
huddled against the wind

the dead overgrown grasses
waving their hellos
or
perhaps sending
some kind of secret message

nocturnal creatures
with amber eyes
slowly morphing
into hideous creatures
screeching in the shadows
awaiting the precise moment
to pounce on and devour
some poor innocent

all of it... an inconceivable mystery really

but at night
we believe in almost anything......don't we?
at the edge of town
where only
the bravest of men
dare to tread

there is an ancient graveyard
that sits quietly
in the darkened stillness

for years
people have said
it houses
many dark decrepit souls

and

it's not a safe place

well

at least for mortals that is...

ominous black shadows

dance
    among
        the bare trees

silently w
               e
                a
              v
             i
              n
             g

            t
             h
               e
              m
             s
              e
                l
                 v
                 e
                s

in and out
and
all about
like a fine satin ribbon
wrapping firmly
around the well set roots

watching from afar...

the silver crusted winter moon
hanging heavily in the night sky

and

the only discernible sound
in the cool midnight air

the rhythmic clicking
of her jet black stilettos

f
a
l
l
I
n
g

boldly

upon
        the
             icy pavement

her fierce heart
p o u n d i n g wildly
within her dead chest
keeping in time with
the ever hollow sounds
of her well laid steps

tipping her head back
ebony
            curls askew
her alabaster pearled face
looking to the heavens

deep crystal blues
silently soaking in
the silver moonlight

while

strange creatures
shriek in the distance

yet

their faint cries
are quickly muffled
by the b
             r
              i
               s
                k   w i n d s

a crooked oak
with its gnarled branches
swaying
beckoning her

arriving at the cemetery gate
she follows the well forgotten path
that winds itself deep
into the inner core
finding herself surrounded
by old family crypts
and faceless angels
seemingly desperate for flight

all her senses arousing at once

some call them pheromones
but to her, an immortal
the name makes no matter
she senses a certain dryness
in her mouth
and a constant burning
in her belly

his heartbeat
swirling in her ears
the smell of iron
fills the air around her
and she is overcome
with the need to hunt

with wetted appetite
she comes upon the young man
he is taken back by her beauty
captured, ensnared to say the least
yet a dark foreboding builds within him

his mouth has no time
to form any words
before the deadly beauty
bares her incisors
and takes him willingly
to the brink of death

her poisoned bite
his warmed flesh
a decadent flowing
across her crimson lips

and she feasts

as
   the
        northern
                     winds howl
completely frozen
in that last tangible moment
her hollow thoughts
dispersing themselves
into the empty night

tasting the bitter drink of regret
she no longer hears
the whispers of possibility
her tattered soul
cries out into the darkness

blindly clutching onto a mere wisp
of some old ingrained belief
her over worked lungs
shutter with each new breath
keeping her well within its painful grasp

utterly destroyed
by the incompleteness of her reality
an unwanted companion of sorts
and
within her grasp
the cup of pain

she drinks in his absence begrudgingly

wondering how a vessel of such misery
was able to find its way
to her unwanted table
in all its gaudy adornment
simply holding its tragic message

fragmented thoughts
trying to cry out
but she is silent
no sounds escape
her pain...
well that becomes a simple compromise
that will stagnate in her lasting grief

the foul stench of remorse and bitterness
swirling about her senses
surrounded only by memories
of what could have been

her soul
lost
in this perpetual nightmare


and she no longer believes in fairy tales
recently I've become acutely aware
of what I've taken for granted
over the many years of my life

I guess you could say that

I have seen the light
I've seen the error of my ways
I have come to terms with the worst
I have accepted the unacceptable


yada yada and so on

believe me when I say...
“our lives are really just a flash,
a brief moment of immortality”


but unfortunately
we   are   only   “allowed”
a tiny taste mind you

we get
the most minuscule peak
into the wisdom it takes
to get through this life

and the up and downs

well...

they
become
             our everyday
battle scars

getting so caught up in our daily lives
we tend to forget
that every breath we take
brings us one step closer...

we no longer wake to see the sunrise
and many fall to slumber before sunset

we've stopped putting our toes in the oceans froth
and have forgotten how to dance in the rain
like we did as innocent children

the days, weeks and months pass
and the seasons become nothing but a blur
the clock is ticking
and we are all
running
running
running
in circles
jumping through hoops

grabbing for the brass ring

and then

we wake up one day
look in the mirror
and
realize we have grown old
and we ask ourselves
where did the time go?


we now “wear” our regrets
and it shows on our faces
and the wrinkles take up
permanent residence
without our permission

the *******

I myself
shall not waste another day

tomorrow

I will begin living the rest of my life
appreciating even the smallest of things

*hell yeah,
I might even go outside
and make a couple of  “mud pies”
the grayness of the day
is enough for me
to use as an excuse
to pull the heavy covers
back over my head

the dark dank air
trying to sneak its way
under my blankets
dying to run its icy fingers
across my warmed thighs

the wafting smell
of freshly ground coffee
innocently finding its way
to my unsuspecting nose
and a slight smile starts
painting itself across my lips

I push my toasty warm pillow
back and forth under my head
and then begin wrapping it
around my ears
like a turban or nightcap
hoping it will somehow
lull me back to sleep
to the place of dreams
where I want to be

but alas

the day is dawning
the rooster is crowing
and the shower
is calling my name
but crawling out
from beneath the covers
is almost like torture

thank goodness
for my fuzzy socks

crawling across
the cold wooden floor
I slink silently
into the bathroom
laying on my back
in the middle of the floor
counting the tiny tiles
one by one

he comes in the room
I let out a gargantuan sigh
and how does he respond?

He puts my cup of coffee
on the floor

right next to my head

and quietly walks away...
the season of the dead
has fallen upon the earth

and

in the encroaching darkness
black shadows rage forth

the air is filled
with the most subtle of whispers

and

the brisk midnight wind
chills me to the bone

and

though the darkness holds
some kind of redemptive qualities

the air vibrates with horrific tones
as the sweetened song of death
plays over and over in my head

much like
a satanic symphony
                
and

I find myself
standing in knee high grass

my eyes set upon
a faceless abomination

and

its bloodied hide
ritualistically draped

across a moonlit altar
made of mortar and stone

and

the nighttime creatures stir

and

sensing freshly spilled blood
they rise from their slumber

gathering themselves at my feet
embracing my long-awaited darkness

and

their newly sharpened talons
scratching
at the dry ground underfoot

while their infernal screeching
echoes through the hollow blackness

this cursed unholy night
will surely pass
under the watchful eye
of the hallow eve moon

and

here I sit
undisturbed
on my raven feathered throne
a slight smile to my crimson lips
as I silently survey
what all belongs to me
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