Wildly caught in a most unusual pattern,
the reckless hands of time creating chaos;
Denied the chance to chime in awesome grace,
eventually moving forward past the chorus.

While voices yield a calling from the prophets,
to set aside their differences and squabbles;
The echoes' timely chatter brings disarray,
from a vacuum left behind in scorn and rubble.

No longer seeking to dispel the cryptic clouds,
of distinct rhetoric defying ancient chapters;
As the river of intent flows past each missive,
ruination trails in rejection of its captors.

Neglecting to reach out with total resolution,
the conflict settles down and dissipates;
Can mankind foresee the crowns of ageless stars,
when all is said and done without disgrace ?

Anna Leonowens called
The King of all Siam
“A flock of sheep
And you the only Ram”

I hear the bleating of
The flocks down at the beach
Who wander free among the germs
Outside of prudence reach.

A belwether is needed now
To step into the lead
And guide the foolish ewes and lambs
To the safety that they need.
ljm

Come and listen to the sound
of my skin,
you will hear the regret
that lingers on it

from the brushes of his fingers
through the fine hairs on my arm,
that embarrassed me,
but he thought were delicately beautiful

you will hear the sighs
he buried in my neck,
after being up with my nightmares
for the third night in a row

he said he didn’t mind,
but those sighs... those sighs...

you will hear the sting of his goodbye
that hit me like a tidal wave,
straight in the stomach,

it stung... it stung like a fierce bee
who had nothing left to lose
by leaving its sting
in the skin of its lover,

hear my skin, hear that sting
it buzzes, hums, vibrates...
my skin is alive with venom

don’t listen for too long,
it spreads

I have kissed boys

Girls

People in between

But lately I have been kissing bottles

Their lips are colder than yours

But slowly I have realized that the pounding headache when I wake is less hurtful than the shattering in my chest

Yet as these toxins rush through my veins

I can't help but miss the tracing of your fingers along my skin

Miss the numbness of the world when you lie with me

But when I wake I remember that a headache is treated with an aspirin

While heartache

Well if you have a cure for Heartache let me know

Anxiety feels like I’m not the real me.
The real me is locked in a cage
And I don’t have the key.