"um wage to the red flashing lights of a man hoping to get back to his children safe"

Is that what we wake up to every day?

Fast food and gas stations are forever stamped in the corners of my eyes as they are looking through the glass of minimum wage to the red flashing lights of a man hoping to get back to his children safely.

Is life is a pointed dagger then my blade is rusted and dull when I wonder why I even try some days.

Do I dare defend my pride and still demand something more than this? Is this a call for engines in the air or wings made of wax? Death would be more alive than waking up to another day of shampoo commercials and microwave dinners.

You are always whispering in my ear though dear and telling me that you're more than just a particle flown into my imagination from a world so oh very different than ours.

Are your eyes as bright as I imagine? Will the glare from them blind me from the tax collectors whip and will your laughter drown out the screams of onlookers who are throwing peanuts through the bars at my feet?

Will your kiss melt me and cause me to fall into wind like leaves in a storm, a tornado of color and beauty..?

I lay in bed and my eyes close tightly, my breathing slows and thoughts drip into pits men drown themselves in, the murky waters of nihilistic cynicism...

Though my hand will still not be closed around yours when the sun rises, the whisper lets me know you are still awake and searching for me too...

"Melting the soul of the man"
Evan G 

She was a southern lover,
From her doe eyed stare,
Down to her cowboy boots,
Persona sweeter then the tea
Steeped In the Psalms of The South.

She was a southern lover,
A refined drawl cultured
With French influence her demotic
Melting the soul of the man
She calls darling and mon cheri
In the same fervent phrase.

She was a southern lover,
Growing like the magnolia tree
Planted at her birth,
Walking where the wind blows,
Humming with the land.

She was a southern lover,
But we danced to Zeppelin,
Howling out the ballad we were
Sloshing beer & wine
To our record good times.

She was a southern lover,
As we watched the sunset
On the porch swing with a
Basset hound bubbling,
Howling the kiss I stole
In the last rays of light.

She was a southern lover,
And I a southern man,
And we swore to love till our
Astral hearts last nova into sand.

"a swallow of a man)"
Melody W 

Day and night, your mother labored
And expelled, (regrettably not
a swallow of a man)

your shivering feathers
tainted with tar and desire
already plotting my demise

without light, you grew
as the leech in my garden
fattened by my lifeblood

and robin unrelenting
hearts of their joy
cradles so innocent

yet, heron out
I’ll drown your toxicity
with torrents of forgiveness

©MW, lulz
"a drowning man clinging to remnants"
Melody W 

He once spoke of tree swings
the inexplicable eeriness of the whole
contraption swaying with an almost
inaudible cadence on windless days

Lost spirits, he had whispered,
they'll always come back
to the places that held the most
longing, sorrow, mindless torment

The night enveloping our distilled minds,
we became the shadows peering through
windows like empty souls caught
in a silent watery purgatory

Unbeknownst to me, he was
a drowning man clinging to remnants
of greatness like quicksand, yet headfirst
careening into the open mouth of tragedy

"Like primitive man,"
Melody W 

Like nauseating, velvety notes
of your Thierry Mugler wafting,
you pinned me to the wall, shocked;
in that pause, you stayed a while

I dripped with naivete
suspended in midair oblivion
tethered to the structure of your mind
as I greedily swallowed your saccharine words

Like primitive man,
you had few functioning tools
save for that seemingly vast
territory comprised of your self

three long years now but a blur
though resistant in my troubled mind
spotlight on your barely concealed indifference
As you shared a tiny bed with a "sisterly figure"

Like vermin caught on unforgiving electrical wire
you reek wholly of noise pollution
and I, inadvertent eager participant,
screamed till my hoarse throat could offer no more

repeated trauma, punishment bestowed upon my jaded self
until that final orchestration of my innermost being
demolished our hateful bridge, expelling your torment
as I crumpled to the ground, weeping rivulets of relief

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