I am
Nothing more
Than a bag of bones.
My rib cage
Is a prison you rend
In twain, tear the mesh,
And sift fruitlessly through.
I am
An empty shell
You discarded;
All unraveled ends
And frayed edges.
I am
Orange peels
Carrying the essence
Of something sweet
As an echo of scent
And color-
-I will
Return to the earth
And start again.

Everything was all
Lit candles and dusk
Hibiscus and pear
Unfurling out in smokey dragon tongues
Across my navy blanket.
Things seemed...
Sexier then
On a twin bed, surrounded by miles of
Forest.
Some nights,
Like a Highwayman
I stole away through the parting branches
The moon's cycloptic eye a beacon
Through the dead tree sea
And run to my Bess for kisses
Sweet, not-so-innocent touches
In the courtyard that overlooked
The Cemetery.

Yesterday, all things were dark
Like burning candles in the dusk.
Hibiscus, pear, and witches brew
And dragon's blood caught in the musk

Notions now, seemed **** then
And stealing out into the dark
I dreamt I was the highway man
After my Bess's fickle heart.

The moon above; cycloptic eye
Watched reverently as I crept
Across the mud and bracken path
Where willow trees once stooped and wept.

The musician crickets, with violin legs
Stroked their notes under the sky
And chirping peepers, peeking out
Sang louder in their sweet reply.

A long forgotten hidden grove
That bore the markers of the dead
Was where, for peace, I stopped to roam
Over the grass, to clear my head.

And there- amongst the silent mass,
Who find repose under the land-
I listened to their noiseless words
The silence, which I understand.

Unclasp your fingers
Your clenched fists
And know the release of
Giving in

Let him drift away
Let the ocean stand between you
As a testament
To the vast expanse
That exists there now.

Stop fighting the waves.
Stop braving the icy waters
Arm over arm
To reach him on the other side.

The water will always win.
And you never were much of a swimmer.
He's just a distant island now
Shrouded in fog
Somewhere over the horizon.

Rest now,
The fight is over.
Your mangled, frantic heart
Can slow
And begin another tempo
When it's no longer bleeding over
An unreachable coastline.

All things fade
Rain washes away the deeds done
Somewhere on the earth, in the trees
On a winding path, where the fireflies
Like failing Christmas lights flicker.

"chasing down
******-babble
with distilled
shots of art
after detonation,
was not unlike
unlike being
spellbound
by a lover's
jawline,
unhinged."
||shoo.shu ||