Through tears he says, "Goodbye, my love, I'll be alright."
This memory burns strong as she cries to the night.
Dark of NightDressed up in her Sunday best
The little girl leads in her guest
Shielded by the dark of night
She grasps the knife with fingers tight
Hidden in her heart so pure
A wicked force without a cure
She watches as her parents sleep
If they knew they could only weep
It doesn't take long, simply a flash
Her vigour increases with every slash
Not a sound had passed their lips
Before they board death’s eternal ships
Her body stained with crimson red
She leaves behind the ruined bed
One last stop before her end
Not a moment more has she to spend
The beloved child of only four
He’ll never see a summer more
The girl lurks in without a sound
Looks right into his eyes so round
Around his neck she’s placed the noose
Checks to see it isn't loose
He then begins to speak her name
Believing that it’s just a game
She hangs the rope above her head
Waits until the boy is dead
Finally, her strength is lost
She knows just what her deed has cost
With the bodies she creates a pyre
MoonlightThe moonlight drips silver onto her white and crimson body. Her still soft skin brushes my own rough arm, as I hold her lifeless form. The blood pools and stains the purity of her platinum locks, while her midnight dress soaks in even more as though it could restore her to former light and life. The only thing worse than the sorrow that wracked my entire being, was the knowledge that none of this was real.
It all started with the shadow. That mockery of an absence, a nothingness so intense I could feel its presence even when it was not in sight, even as I slept it watched me from the corner of the room. I believed it to be just my imagination, a paranoid spectacle that resulted from my overworked mind. You see, I recently went through a tragedy so deep, not one could feel my pain. The girl of my dreams, my reason for life and all that has ever been good, left me one night.
My entire life died under the starlit sky.
She fell with grace to her knees, so like an angel, with the knife stil
Winter KissMany solemn years ago
In midst of frost and powdered snow
Down curving path he walks his lonesome
In this chaste and still December
Deep within the shaded grove
Each singing bird a treasure trove
Behind a tree of elder years
Like faerie dust, a dainty whisper
Moves like summer, sings like rain
Maiden fair of midnight mane
Spinning 'round in blissful union
Upon his lips a winter kiss
Evergreen needles brush porcelain skin
Losing himself in her delicious sin
The shrieking wind then takes her leave
His lionheart skips beat to empty
Gentle crunch of fallen leaf
Hangs his head to hide his grief
Seasoned mind and homeward bound
In this chaste and still December
Sarah Smiles"When I was younger, I had a friend. She called herself Sarah, and we were as close as any two girls could be. We were never apart, bonded together as tightly as the ribbons that held up our hair. One of our favourite things to do was to dress up and make-over our Barbie dolls. There's something soothing about brushing that long, blonde hair with a plastic brush no longer than your fingernail. We usually used markers as make-up, but occasionally some of my mother's lipstick and nail polish made it's way into our tiny hands, much to her annoyance. My Barbie always ended with over rosy cheeks and pink highlights. Sarah, however, liked to paint hers a little differently. Nearly all the hair would be cut off, what was left of it would be coloured black. The lipstick always smeared and the eyes, those eyes would always be shadowed and dark, as though this poor doll had never known sleep. I still remember when we finished, Sarah would say to me, "You see, her eyes hold so much pain, so much
Golden MorningAnd in this darkness, never fleeting, always with me
You bear a flame, drawing nearer
To spirit away these lonely tears
Love so dear and tender, gentle warmth
Scare away the fighting demons
Before the dawn, dark and vile
Stay, my love, always near me
Cross all borders, fences shattered
Don't leave, walk into the evanescence
Of the sighing, swirling mist of morning
Oh, gentle love, formed of sun's golden light
Take us far above the sorrows of this sad night
Inkless PenTonight, fly home
On the wind, through clouds
Fashioned into my past
Dark, it storms
Rain mixed with tears
Which flow from merciless eyes
Past flies a dove
Failing wings, battered dreams
Spiraling down, I carry on
Held high by eternal stars
Yet when I arrive
To where joy and comfort lives (lived?)
I find you gone
Missing like the last piece to a puzzle
And I realize
Love is an inkless pen
Hopeless as the words of a dying man
I leave for the last time
On rolling waves that breathe in time
With my own unbeating heart
Life on a Television ScreenLife on a television screen
Eyes watch every quivering move
Thousands of eyes, flies on the wall
Dissected under the limelight
Ants under a magnifying glass
Held by the hand of a tainted child
Sun kissed skin, mermaid hair
Praise seeps through every pore, false modesty
Falling in and out of lust
With every evening past, drinking to hide from what's been done
City lights, darkless nights
Until the mo(u)rning, sun so bright
Crying from this tired heart
This tragic life begins once more
My Thoughts Are A StormThe scars you bear I wish I could
Die for, only the best do I want
For you, to be happy, the fault is
Mine own which tore us apart
Some days I was screaming inside
Yet I found complete happiness
With you, when you told me my
Apology was not accepted, it was
Like hearing news of an intimate
Suicide, your hate filled mind
Killed me inside, my thoughts
Are a storm, raging memories
Of every fight, every flaw fighting
For attention, yet the savage longing
To fall once more into you comforting
Arms, but who would I be if I
Allowed myself to go back?
Corpse BrideGirl so sweet, only seventeen
A prettier sight you'd never seen
Long raven hair, soft pale skin
A heart every man wanted to win
Clear blue eyes, deep as the sea
As gentle a soul as there could ever be
Then one quiet winter's day
She ventured to where she used to play
A forest so thick, not bothered by light
But not too far in she was given a fright
For before her stood a man so strong
His piercing eyes watched her far too long
She turned, a sparrow in flight, too late
He held her fast, told her to wait
He meant no harm, he looked so sweet
And so they agreed from then on they'd meet
Every day they were together in secret
She felt happy to bursting every time they met
A few weeks later, he loved her he said
So with this, alas, they agreed to wed
She wore her mother's antique wedding dress
They were to meet late at night, under moonlight's caress
Poor thing, she waited what seemed like forever
But her love would soon complete his wicked endeavour
She sees only a shadow before it all goes
And in this dark harvest of season
My life has completely lost reason,
For which or against to decide.
All lost in a savage and endless, bleak tide
In sadness and in kindness
In light and in darkness.
In a boat made of hope
I shall sail to tomorrow,
In a winding hurricane
Made of treachery and sorrow.
There's a spear, endless, and colossal spear...
Piercing, slashing though my head.
Starting somewhere in heaven,
Ending somewhere in hell.
Fighting, burning, crying, crashing.
Are the armies within.
In my head they are all thrashing.
On the heaven's and hell's whim.
To be light or to be darkness.
A perpetual array.
It's not merely my choice,
But the choice of the way.
It's an option of the voice,
It's a thin line of gray.
Is it a choice forced by fate,
Is it a pre-set time and date?
Or a choice to which I myself sway?
But here's our story anyway .
"Nothing that I do will matter.
As all things will merely shatter!"
All my hopes thus darkness scatter,
As it shoves me a decree.
As it si
I think of youAs suns set afar and mountains flame
And eagles, turning, turn to fire
Ash cold, alone I lie
And think of you.
All Hallows EveThey say that on this night the witches ride,
that spirits walk and churchyards spew their dead.
It isn’t true.
It’s said the stench of hell infects the earth
and healths of heated blood are downed.
But Hamlet lied.
The dead know nothing, the living less.
There are only poets with blood-nibbed pens;
souls hung between high heaven and deep hell.
You can't have it allbut you can have the glazed heat bursting from the blacktop like a broken
fire hydrant. You can have the jangle of keys
swinging from your hip with each stride.
You can have the tactility of leather and the graze of
bathroom mosaic tiles under a cold shower pelting
bullets and when the water cuts off
you can have dry book pages. You can have happiness,
though it will often be bitter, like finding a stranger’s
wallet full of pictures of smiling children until you
return it to find that the couple is barren.
You can have the scratches on the back of his knuckles,
faded, yet raw. You can have the translucency of sheets
in the sun, silhouettes but no details,
never revealing anything more than a fringe of hair
and frayed laces tripping over themselves.
You can drop obscenities like bombs until
they don’t mean anything anymore. You can pull out the Monopoly board
that broke your family. You can’t put it back together,
but you can pretend the thimble is your mother and the
and when we kiss,
he says it
leaves him breathless,
is just two awkward kids
reminding each other to breathe,
that's all you need.
the world is brighter where
dregs of strangers' revels remain --
i keep this half-light for my own.
i'll stay until the wind sighs a scotch-and-smoke
cliché, til the Muscadet's slipped from the lip
of my wayward
hello.(i know you're there before you do.)
your night is told in
patchouli-pulse wanders; mine,
in whorls of liqueur-breath. come
close and i'll find the warp
through the weft, the trails telling tales
in synaesthesia --
Platinum Blonde's been 'round and gone.
(-- closer, find syllables strewn
in an exhale's wake; stolen from my throat-
ful of careless farewells, spin and sway
and beg you stay.)
time enough for a kiss-
and-never-tell, for a stumbling waltz
to the dissonance of crystal-shatter odes
to the summerlong i knew you --
we were(n't) meant for more than this.
morning goes right through you,
and breathes a thousand fortunes in-
to shards of (our) stranger starfall.