I crossed my legs under my skirt,
wishing away promises,
I feared he would keep.
Soundless Screams.And he sank in the sea of plausible words;
only the anchor of mistrust holding him bound.
Holding on, he cursed gods and promised lords,
what'd happen had it been the other way around?
Bitten lips and slumping eyelids haunt his mind;
or what remains after the utter devastation.
Sanity and eternal aberration have entwined
in order to give birth to merciless frustration.
Can Earth be suffocatingly boundless?
If so, then he can be free.
Can screams be loudly soundless?
It seems that his can be.
Her love was bone white,
[ but never like diamonds. ]
Truth then became water to
pruning fingers and splitting lips,
while she drowned
in the mouth
of a liar like me.
Hopea little girl stands on the corner of
5th and main.
her shoes are tattered and torn
from the burden of service.
it's pouring rain, but she has an umbrella
(also quite a bit beat-up).
she looks up at the sky, raindrops splattering
on her face.
she wonders - as she has for a while - if any help will come.
but no, that's silly.
she's already seen too much
to believe in fairy tales.
the little girl searches the clouds a bit more,
then lets go of the umbrella.
the wind is so strong that immediately it's caught up and
just like a balloon.
she sits down
almost as if
that was her very last one.
I look at you
And wonder why we talk.
Wonder why we were friends.
What made us click.
You say something
And I wonder why people laugh
Wonder what goes on in your head
What made you say it.
We have a moment
Where we share a secret smile
And I sadly accept
That you've been forgiven
Yellow WallI write on the wall
to convince myself
all things can fade.
But this is of pencil
and my sorrows are
written in sterner ink.
GhostI fell in love with a ghost,
She visited me in my dreams,
She stroked my face, smiled a tender smile,
And gazed into my heart with her eyes,
I cannot recall her name,
Because she never told it to me,
She just made me feel happy,
And that seemed enough for her.
I would often wake, with the warmth of her touch
still fresh upon my face,
The memory of her beautiful eyes
still makes my heart skip,
And beat to a rhythm I had not felt in so many years,
I would look forward to sleeping
and to be able to feel her touch again.
The dream was always the same,
I would enter a room, of such
opulent furnishing and beautiful decor,
I was always amazed;
The sun would be shining through,
Casting golden rays of hope upon her,
A woman of such beauty that only dreams are made of,
She would always look up and smile at me,
A happy smile,
A loving smile,
She would stand from her seat,
And in a second, be at my side,
Holding my hand, stroking my face,
She would say such wonderful things to me,
Things that carr
WreckedShadows spit out
gasoline and shoe paint,
write sermons with their fingertips,
spin gunslinger sympathies and
Life is a desertLife is the driest of deserts,
Its sands forever shifting,
Threatening to overwhelm
the aimless wanderer.
The one without a goal.
Some see solace and safety,
In the shade of burning trees,
Awaiting the day when the rain arrives
to wash away the pain.
A day which seldom comes.
Many find safety in pits,
Dug with blistered hands,
The running walls of their respite
endlessly returning to their original
Blistered hands dig endlessly until skin peels from bone.
A brave few risk the sunlight,
Daring to dream they face the perilous desert
and claw their way through the scorching
To finally find what others dare not dream,
i don't tell you enough -fair-haired child
with a hesitant touch,
how you've grown.
motherless daughter with
eyes as alive as spring
they could forget what they've seen),
i love you.
the cars you crash into
and the scars that you carry
never keep you from sky-castles
that are far beyond your reach.
you, who vanquishes her head-foes
with the cadence of her rocking
and the rhythm of an ever-anxious heart,
are wiser than you take credit for;
because even though your heart remembers
how lovers become calloused and impatient
with your flighty soul -
you will always return to the heavens.
you will always carve your path
out of the darkest forests.
even with your beaten and clipped wings,
you choose to fly;
keep on, faithful-dreamer.
you're sure to find your dawn.
i found a body"i found a body made of light and wood."
with pieces of fleshy bark pasted on
as if its creator were a drunken artist.
from the rich-brown wooden body
tiny green buds spurt;
and beneath the bark,
a hot light glows
bubbling between the cracks of wood
as if larva would pour out if a piece of bark
were to be peeled away.
a swarm of buzzing fireflies,
lingering near the magnificently delicate body.
the body belonged to a man I talked with in my dreams.
his peculiar mind babbled with demons -
they were long and fleshy
and fell over
like old flowers
bowing in sorrow.
the righteous will fall, he'd say.
and I believed him.
I found a body made of light and wood,
but the dripping sap has never been more dark
its idyllic light has never been more sweet
and my poignant bones have never been so weightless.
The WaitingBones hang from trees
Hollow windchimes rattling
In the sullen breeze
Dark clouds make noonday dusk
Rusted buttons on threadbare coats
Sorrow drips like rain
(From the fingertips of this dead-rose day)
Hoofprints kill the grass
Where the dark horse steps
The rider unsmiling
The tired and ill amble about
Cattle awaiting the shoulder tap
To sleep, but not to dream
(To become whatever the second birth dictates)
The Atlantic Lungs TheoryMy apologies are stretching as wide as the Atlantic ocean because I no longer want to breath out regret.
But the devil has taught me that my sorries will constantly be synthetic like my emotions.
So I cheated on my happiness with melancholia because my respiration has no gravity in this universe.
I can't be alive to tell you I actually mean it, to say I'm sorry means I love you a thousand times times infinity.
All wrapped around my pinky with a red ribbon