We spark
the kindling in ritual
as souls dance around us;
our bonfire keeps them at bay.
They never stray,
hoping to hold us, hug us,
whisper missings and tidings of comfort
to steady our bones for passage.

We wait
on rotting logs, gazing toward dawn,
entranced by flames and huddled together,
closely, with wet-iced eyelashes.
Our silent breathing scuttles away
on paths of pale white and moist,
out and sifted through our watchers' chests.
Their voices go unheard.
Who would hear conversation
from depths during an eve of fright?

We watch
the orange-red idol wane in the wind.
Odd, no? Shouldn't it be growing?
They're breaking though to us
so we embrace more closely,
latching, heartbeats bumping one another
keeping rhythm, keeping our stillness,
and fevered hands massage our shoulders,
erasing tensity, stiff limbs, lightness.

Smoke escapes our eye sockets
and they smile at our blankened faces.
Who are these people celebrating?

We’re tying our shoes-- as we think about the day's gifts
          Holding strings-- curling ribbons with latent sweat
"I’'ve heard they’ll pull us through-- we tie around each box
          eyelets, through tunnels and catacombs."-- a shimmering luster abetting
beyond the sky.

Today we mourn those drained sausage-limbs at noon-time
     --(Sallow-cheeked mistresses and fortunes abounding
        for those who have time for such things.)

With tears
     --hiding the feelings of those who have none

                  slapping the ground.
We see
           every unfurling light
combine with blots of pity
                                                 to fortify prairie grass.

And I remember an old gravel highway that separates my family and church from geologic
build-up which the wind is slowly chewing.

I can't be with them-- like the western, sandy steppes of Nebraska,
     I can't hold water, and their loving nourishment sinks through me.
     My arms won't be like ribbons, in an embrace of the
dead’s remitting tendrils.
     As I lay outstretched on the Sand Hills, shielding my belly from the desert sun;
     boring water trapped in caverns under neatly wound sweat-bows and boxes
I, one day, too, cry emaciated tears.

     Surely, we are tethered firmly to the spool, dangling with
tensity on the tines of breath, shimmering, aloft-- but also, don’t forget:

We are fastened by a knot above our leather casing
     holding the body in-piece and being manipulated at once.
     We decorate the boxes, in which we are to lie
with wet, green ribbon, pulled through rocky soil by course, chapped hands.

That one thing i craved for..
Only you didn't know
Always on my mind
a drug, poisoning me
A sick addiction
Cutting me off from reality

Each time you pulled me closer
Each time i felt you better
Each time you treaded me more the way i wished for
A one night stand
But the day after i didn't exist anymore

The torture of being nothing
Nothing more than a pleasure
Just a toy, what could i do
Everything was fine with me
As long as i could see you

Never an explanation
Till the day we got together
You cherished me
Like a wolf in sheep skin
And i, the sheep, was trapped
As you kissed my neck
Calling me 'his girl'

You told me you love me
You told me you're afraid i'll leave
You told me you're a selfish man
You told me you're struggling with yourself
The voices, they keep talking to you
I know you're scared
But i love you too.

Now we're here
There's nothing left
No tensity just insanity
You're The razor on my wrist
But the cuts relieve the pain
My biggest mistake but yet my happiness

Afraid to lose you
Pretending I'm fine
Exhausted of waiting
Too Scared to stand up
craving for your attention
waiting patiently till it's my time

You pull me closer to the edge
Pushing me further away from you
Just A tread saving me from the abyss
It's like waiting for the end
Wondering what you're holding behind your back.

Preparing for another day
Closing my eyes as a tear slips through my lashes
Wetting my pillow
Leaving a black stain
Trying to sleep, my thoughts keep me awake.

As i wrap my hands around your neck, holding my breath
Counting to three...
The razor cuts me again
So relieving, but still feels so wrong
I love you and With knives in my heart
I decide to give you one more chance
The last chance

Like i gave yesterday...

Remembering the way
you pulled me close to your heart in the promises
of never breaking me

staying here, dancing in my mind
in public
in the dark
making the tensity in my body, release
telling me you love me, keeping yourself hostage
in my body,
i listen deeply.
i am home to you.

The strangest stories have no sense of direction,
No  respect  of  Truth,
No  pinnacle  insurrection.
Al­as, the tensity causes the button to pop.
Eyes  lowered,
As the other foot drops.
Once seemingly meaningless grains
Suddenly aggregate into disabling pains.
Perspectives contest to be absolute
But  not  one  is;
They're unavoidably destitute.
Decisions are very seldom sound
Since every interpretation
Has flaws to be found.
Emotionalities  arise,
Rationality  divides
And
A choice invites a new inception;
One that defines a  point of inflection.

When I’m with you, my being is filled with a comfort unlike anything else.
Although, these words may never leave my heart, for I fear you may think me too attached.

When I walk beside you, I wish to entangle my fingers in yours and interlock my dreary self with your optimistic light.
And although my lips may never shape this feeling to you, truth be truth, inside myself.

When I first enter that room of anxious working early in the morn, before the sun has fully risen, I wish only to fold myself into your warmth and release that which downs me.
But I do hope this longing never reaches you, so that you may never feel burdened by my love.

When we sit close, amongst the chaos, I dearly swear it that I desire to spill the darkness and gold of my ever straining, creating mind to you so that you may understand my inner worldly thoughts.
Yet I shall forever hold my tongue, to not elude you to some falscity that I may be of twisted psyche or wisdom.

When I think of us parting ways, like a goose must do to the lake to escape the ever threatening cold of winter, my heart clenches in the tensity of my overwhelming sorrow of envisioning your departure from me.
And still, never could I share with you my woes, for I hide amidst the shadow of the fear of abandonment and lonesome

And so, I shall stay silent for your love.
And so, these dwellings I do sorrily keep to myself.

Drooping fear and dripping turmoil,

catching a vicious cycle in recoil,

Splatters the decayed and fermented topsoil,

Bringing seeds of chaos to a steady boil,

Blooming at night the soil will harvest plans unspoiled,

Creeping like veins pumping crude oil,

Penetrating and shaking at night it toils,

Holding it's grasp to clasp like a gargoyle.


The rising Anger multiplying tensity,

To reach the darkness committing felony,

Hiding within marvel in blinding intensity,

Collecting blinding Disarray gaining density,

Photosynthesis of the confusion turns to ebony,

Heartache stored devilishly for energy,

Lacking compassion to show no empathy.


Eating the mentally capacitating staple makes you incapable,

Unshakable you shiver dread losing your vocational,

Spirit dismissed you're feeling dismissed,

The grasp unbreakable and forever untraceable,

Wishing instead to starve as the hollow spirits carve,

This plantation by incarnation shapes formation,

blocking salvation it's stagnation draws damnation.


Gargoyles shapes perched upon your hearse,

Harvesting this Belligerent form of Disarray plants the curse,

To recoil the host it chose,

Falling prey to dismay only worse.