I nurture the creator in you;
the little god that throbs to be master of
words and colors, lines and notes.
I watch you give birth to it.
I see how it squeezes out of
your brain and crawls across
the floor- all ****** and wet.
It's alive and glorious and grotesque.
You're immortal- a giver of life.
I hold it to my face, and breathe in
the smell of rain, pine trees, and desire.
I kiss its fur, and taste the
fires of hell, cardamom, and oysters, raw and sweet.
I feed it a bowl of saffron threads, soaked in milk,
stare into its wild black eyes; I can hear
it hum a tune in B flat minor, and I wonder,
whose seed is this?

I'm a concoction of emotions
digging my own grave

I back away from desired eyes
to avoid the shame and hurt
when my core's been exposed

Will this cycle of
remaining a prisoner 
of my own heart
ever come to an end

Perhaps I wasn't 
meant to be loved at all
but beautifully resilient 
on my own

How much
Are you willing to do
For lust

Would you follow them into their black hole disguised as an enticing mystery

Endure suffering
Inflict emotional slashes that rip and tear
Through the flesh of your mind and body

Would you shatter yourself
Pick up the pieces of you
That they need
Only to be left incomplete
Because you’re used to being the fixer
And never the one fixed

How far would you go
Where would you set your limits
They’re not as black and white
As one might believe

How much
Are you willing to do
For lust
Or maybe
I’m the one confused
Maybe
I’ve mistaken love for lust
Due to an incapability of believing in love
Maybe
Just maybe  
But still
How far is one willing to go
For love
Or lust

art is
blood

we cut
our
souls

on purpose

sometimes
it trickles

sometimes
it oozes

and

sometimes
it spurts

and always
we create

these scars

we heal
but never

hide

In darken dreams, it is hard for me
To show my feelings,
I would always pray while looking at
The painted skies of the night,
My tears will always fall
From my eyes, while my soul feel the pains,
Oh, here comes the rain,
My heart is pounding like a drum,
While old memories thunder on in my mind,
Oh, how I start to cry,
When I see your eyes, looking back at me,
We somehow found each other,
In that cold September night that Dark Angel
gave me so much fright,
While he started stalking out my life,
Every science then I have so many dreams,
Places I had never seen,
In places of ancient time,
On bloodstain sand is where I stood,
The sun is hot while souls are lost,
Evil is all around with deep exploded hate
Is all over the place, while in a moment,
I would see King Pharaoh standing over me,
Like time is standing still,
while an ancient world plays in my mind,
is where the Dark Angels spirit lives in darken dreams
that makes my heart bleeds
while I hear slaves scream.

Judy Emery © 2017
The Queen Of Darken Dreams Poetic Judy Emery