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
He only dates broken girls.I will destroy you. I will
make you love me
without even trying;
you’ll love the scabs
on my knees, the bruises
under my eyes, my
singed hair. You will love
the rush of holding
my hand as we cross
the bridge; you’ll feel
like a hero each time
I don’t jump. You will buy
me chocolates, the most
expensive, to guilt me
into eating. You will buy
me seeds instead of flowers,
to give me a reason to
get up in the morning. You
will make me dependent,
even as I feed your white
knight complex. I will destroy
myself, and so you,
and you will know why storms are named after people.
The Horror StoryMy horror should turn to grit that chokes the rusting cogs of passing breaths.
It should sneak into crevice and corner until each pirouette of a clock hand crunches
a desperate death rattle into the mid-December hysteria. It should.
I want my terror to ooze into the machinery of existence and permeate the iron.
I want it to coat, and coax wheels off their axels as my mind spins out of control.
The whole world should grind it's internal organs like black pepper. To a halt.
The stars should feel the chill of my desperation and slide sluggishly down the sides of the sky
dripping burning nitrous into our eyes that in turn melt out of their sockets.
I want every subatomic particle of life itself to suddenly stop, mid sentence.
This is the way the world should fall apart.
This is the way the world ends. This is the way the world ends.
Not with a bang but with a resolutely maternal voice, strong as gravity, growling "Cancer."
I want the world so still that I will see the traces of the dead le
While You Were SleepingWhile you were sleeping
to whisper about you jealously
in their tiny little chain gang
bigger, badder, better.
While you were sleeping
their undying bond of friendship
and every face hardened
sadder, snider, solid.
While you were sleeping
conspiracies rose and fell
with your breath
and They rustled with laughter
more, malicious, mayhem.
While you were sleeping
Cancer shoved over other kids
in the playground
and took their place
suddenly, so, scared.
While you were sleeping
you were overrun
and we can fight it, of course,
with artilleries in the arteries
we'll, wield, weapons
but while you were sleeping
they took a misered,
into tumultous, tumourtuous, laughter
as you lay undefended
and they captured your heart.
ImmuneYour poisonous words
The ones you throw at me
Useless they are
You can't hurt me
You can't break me
It's beyond your power
Ignorant WisdomThe best of us die young
We are blood and body
Mind and muddled matter
That decays from the very air
Necessary like an addiction
Our eyes are skin and sinew
Senses intaking a surface
But to the machine of faults
What is there lost to us?
The best of us are of will
As what will be passed belief
The demanding of subconscious
Edicts of the soul
Then why do they die?
Why must a will be severed
When it drives our existence
All that there is
And will ever represent us?
Why do vessels feed the muscle?
Bones hold up our legs
And a head with strong neck
That its aspirations rise?
The best of us accomplish
Tasks of a higher calibre
Like a barrel of the cannon
One volley into the stars
They undertake with all motive
And lose the unwinnable condition
For through their demarcation
Revitalize our weak hearts
The best of us die young
Because they are not us
And remind us what we should be
Through the greatest league
Of history's lessons
They sacrifice their chance to live
As watcher of the
ursa minor, maybei've realized that the only reason i have ever returned here
has been because of you.
these paths we walked over and over again
still barely bare the imprint of our toes.
you've been gone for
close to forever, i know. but still
i lay here where sky meets sea and stare
at the stars you will never reach.
it's kind of saddening to see that you will never be the
infinitely remembered cancer, orion, gemini;
fame is not meant for everyone. you taught me that.
once upon a time in a land broken long ago,
you told me that the wicked never rest among the living.
with quick feet i had thought you were talking of yourself, a wanderer, runner.
now i see you only ever spoke of me.
my feet have blisters.
lost meso i matched the rhythm of my breathing to his. night
fell vividly, violet, cutting through
still living flesh.
a butterfly made its last flutter.
he was aristocratic, i was the needle, it was
erratic and so we didn't open our eyes. my hands,
gloveless, found him in the dark. i knew he kept finding
hair pins somewhere in the pages
of all those telephone books. and atlas wanted
to feel this touch when i traced
his shoulder blades in awe:
pathmaker, keykeeper, &found. the earth shivered.
when i lie down i am a maze no more.