It always seems to come back down to this edge

To this constricting questioning-
of living
It's ticking in her head-
The most magnificent orchestra she has ever felt in her chest
Slowly muffling the warmth as it continues to run wild-
Pushing out of her limbs
as her throat is falling-

Falling faster into slumber

Life is a vindictive game
And it’s been cheating us-
Before we ever took our first breathes

Figments of my imagination seem to be the only things I live for at this point. What I once thought, what I once felt and held onto with warm hands, was never what I presumed. Life is simply sand grasped in my hands. No matter how tightly I squeeze my fingers together, no matter how firmly I wrap my palm around, the particles slowly fall and escape me.

I need the light of day to fill me to the brim
To emerge the life out of me again
Before the imagination teases me to death

They said "child, he is the enemy." On the day I came into this reality. 
 
I became a stranger among the unknown. 
 
The scripts they read told of fires which embers drew the blind and led the wild to fields where they could grow until blackened wings towered over our world. 
 
But when you met my face you withdrew your guns and blanketed my body from the shadows and freezing moon. 
 
You gave me the energy of a thousand men in the form of wisdom in my eyes. 
 
You carved the words into my skin with satin lips. 
 
Though I was frail and the world grey, 
 
Even with my disbelief I saw the color in you. 
 
My heart grew abundant,
 
Filled what was scarce,
 
Shaped the branches and vines that covered. 
 
All because of the love you shared
 
The words you spoke
 
And the strength you bore through the tattered minds of the truly lost and blind
 
Your pages do not compare to your frame
 
And my eyes have never seen such a sight that I buckled at my knees
 
I will take the words that remain and create a new name in place of the coward you have put to shame.

(C) Tiffanie Doro

such intent
Savor it
Savor what has been unseen-
Every cloak-and-dagger

Hide behind the undertow so your spying eyes go unearthed  
Laying low close to those who will never know-
Never sense
The taste
of marrow-
of raw ignition inside bones
Or the adrenaline that's expanding your pupils-
Black, hardy vacancies and adaption to space

A neck to grasp
Lips to bite into
Warmth to be felt internally
Far more than physical

Closer to irrational spirituality

(C) Tiffanie Doro

I could say that it is our generation but bitterness has always been grandfathered in and we've become so frightened of what is real that we are more content opening up to a lions den to be devoured. Perception or deception? I'm not so sure the lines are still in existence.

(C) Tiffanie Noel Doro