there was love and cost

pleasure and frost

there were accidents

at which point did it switch?

the cloud’s echo meant

and lingered

bent and fingered

beckoning to dissolve

I had no way of knowing

how could I have?

that  the first drops

each matched by a tear

would reveal

it was all a dream

I convinced myself to believe

#tinylittlepieces 2011

the world is burning alive

morals, compassion and self respect

feed the flames of greed

let’s run away before it’s too late

through the shrinking tunnels

of truth and light

kindness and right

we’ll survive the inferno

then stop the flames

follow me

i know a shortcut

the ember, the light
the 4 year old's delight
it stays,  maintains
through the darkness and pain
the confusion and shame
it betrays and lays
but choice remains
light vs dark?
light claims and stays
the joy the bright brings
hides the dark cloud that lings
step ahead of the shadow
of sorrow and shame
and follows the glow of the flame

i miss the depth of our conversations
i miss 4am cigarette drives
i miss us painting the mural on our apartment’s wall
but i don’t miss you
so when you call me I feel… nothing
except sad for you
and your cruel ways of giving love
then taking it away
dangling it over my head
like a schoolyard bully
the venom you’d spray seared my heart
it stopped my breath and tore me apart
i gave you all i had, only love
but you slowly broke
an already broken soul
and you knew it
you meant to, it empowered you
so when you call me I feel… nothing
except that the burns you left have healed
and your words mean nothing anymore

flatline eyes
dead but blinking
empty
void
like his meaningless tattoos
and the fancy house his dad bought him
he wants them filled
the random floating shapes that are him, filled in
with an empty, socially constructed idea
this is some people's dream?
to me
an invitation to a miserable, hollow existence
but with money!
an invitation to hell
empty eyes,  empty hearts, empty gifted house
i'd rather roam this world alone forever
than live in flatline hell

the pawn

interjecting appropriate jargon

at appropriate moments

seemingly interesting but far from fascinating

just enough to make you not turn away

at first

jargon, silence, repetition

repetition, silence

ammunition is empty

****

hold hope the initial impression remains

silence, repetition, silence, hope

it doesn’t

it fades

the jargon hardens the plastic

the plastic pawn repeats itself

it pleads and screams to the empty world

for interest, for fascination

just enough to not make you not turn away

you do

you turn to leave and glimpse a sea

of hardening plastic pawns

waiting in queue

to listen

run