Making Deals with the WindI used to make deals with the wind.
She'd blow for me, and I'd sing for her.
She'd take the sound of my voice and immediately whisk it away to some far-off place
like a secret only she could hear.
Perhaps she would deliver the message to some unknown someone far away.
One who truly cared.
She'd softly blow away all my cares and worries with my song,
and I felt she was the most loyal and caring friend I had. The only one I had.
Sometimes I thought she might be angry with me.
She'd blow my hair so hard it would whip my face
It felt like a lashing.
But the times I really knew she was mad were when she held so still
I wasn't certain she was even there.
I would say she was giving me the cold shoulder
but deep down I was afraid she'd left me. Like everyone else.
To test the air I would softly sing my song once more
and at first my voice would hover around me in the air,
crowding against me, suffocating me, pulling me down.
Then just when I was so uncomfort
Catching Raindrops, Raining UpwardI'm placed on this space,
bucket in my hands.
Memories gone, purpose unknown,
I begin walking
and the rain begins falling.
The urge bursts inside,
a pitted cherry for a heart,
and I am catching droplets.
I splash into trillions, scattering.
The raindrops keep falling
and I cannot catch them all.
I cannot catch them all.
I cannot catch them.
And I am soaked.
Hair damp, clothes
wet, heavy hanging
Rubber legs pull
shoes slosh and slow
Weight shifts, and my hair hangs high
droplets creeping up my back
up and off my hair's tips above me
My stories climb the back of my throat
as dew collides and
I cry as failures fly
and I find I am coming dry
from the drips but
clinging, a painful escape
but I am inadvertently
Once they are gone, I am
All for the drops in my bucket.
They are an anvil
pulling at my arm,
I drop it to the ground
and they are golden.
Golden droplets rise from within
drop by drop, a transluce
Without YouAs I sit here all alone
An emptiness inside
I wish that you were here with me
To tell me not to cry
To wipe the tear drops from my cheek
And to whisper in my ear
To tell me that you love me
And that there's nothing left to fear
But you are gone, will you come back?
This is something I need to know.
So I can hold up my head high
And continue with this show
You hold everything together.
Even though you don't think it's true.
But without you here it falls apart,
And I don't know what to do.
I pretend that I am strong
As I go from day to day
But this emptiness is crushing me
As my world starts to decay
So please just come back now
And tell me not cry
I can't live my life without you
I know because I've tried.
Epitaph1. Here lie the ashes;
grey dust mixed with earth,
the memory of a ghost
escaping into oceanic fog,
wisps of sterling vapour
disturbed by feathered wings;
Placid before watering eyes.
2. Here lie the roses;
barbed and wilting,
bloody carmine petals
like her favourite lipstick,
caught amongst golden beams
dusting luscious curls;
Mischief glittering besides.
3. Here lie the memories;
cracked and declining marble,
dark as midnight velvet
caresses searching fingers,
indiscernible letters flourish
on ever crumbling pages;
Fade to an ache with time.
Ashes to ashesBurnt remains float on the draft,
A lazy dance on hidden currents,
Twirling, soaring, plunging into the gap
between charred floorboards
and ashen sills;
Motes blurring into shadowed spectres,
Flashing in shafts of sunlight
that penetrate gloomy rooms,
Tales long forgotten
remembered in the woodgrain;
Void of feeling...
Disturbing footprints scattered,
Chaotic paths of desperation
running in circles,
Sprinting to a standstill
on black-veined tiles;
Cold as ice...
Splashes of vibrance embracing
silver plated moonbeams,
Ashes to ashes,
And shackled souls
battered to the bone;
Your words taste of dust.
mutilateddarkness bleeds through the walls,
chains hanging, wrapping cold bodies,
distant echoes of scraping metals,
steam filled lungs are abnormalities.
uncertain presences of soulless entities,
glaring eyes following my silent steps,
recycled cold bodies made in refineries,
twisting, bleeding, ripped out biceps.
mutilated, deformed, dark and evil,
screams of a thousand trapped bodies,
clotted blood fills the cold veiny vessel,
darkness bleeds through flooded arteries.
The SwingsetHer hair flies in the air,
her face stretched in a grin.
Moisture courses horizontally
across her cheeks into her hairline
as her hands clench the chains.
Her body, weightless in every sensation,
held aloft in momentum,
escaping all worry
for only a moment.
Speak to MeNo, it's not there
in your hands
groping heart's unbroken beat
quickening, I faint
scorched in skin's enticing heat
And it's not there
in your mouth
pressing pillows upon mine
provoking passion, shivers
flickering my spine
I crave it there
in your eyes
gazing down into my own
perhaps in reaching deeper
grieved-for secrets could be shown
I imagine there
inside of you
fabricating bees and birds
sparks, then magic flutters
powered by your words
Tired eyes lever themselves open,
moonbeam melted tranquility
sliding down the waking drain;
The onslaught begins.
Pillow buried faces contorting,
phantom expressions of twisted rage
branding screaming flesh;
You should have stopped him.
Salted nectar bleeding slow,
screwed up eyes watching all
through tightly squeezed shut lids;
You blocked it for a reason.
Desperate for annihilation,
scarlet tendrils sharp and lithe
crave teasing oblivion;
Please make it stop.
Exhaustion takes over,
relieved respite warm and welcome
as consciousness slips away;
Please let me forget.