Oct 24

All Around Me


There is death all around me
in the walls, in the rooms,
in the breaths of the silent,
in the blood of their wounds.

It grows faster than time
and thicker than mold,
like the flicker of a windchime
as their hearts turn cold.

I hear it buzzing in my ears,
an icy fire lit with glass.
I hear them crying in the darkness,
the darkness in the past.

I pity them and myself,
for the death that we will see.
I await the ashes on the shelf
and the future we will be.
 
Sep 03

I Once Killed a Butter Fish

The time was ten,
the sun bright, cruel-almost terrifying.

The light wasn't silver or gold,
the light wasn't blue or jade,
it was only a sharp, clear air that
somehow blinded me through each thickened cloud.

The time was ten one.
Ten two,
ten three and four,
ten five,
ten eight, ten thirteen...
The time was soon to be ten twenty,
and inevitably to be ten fifty.

What we called "butter fish"
would fly up in the air when we kicked
at their piles.
Their dead, colorful piles.

The butter fish were red and green,
they drifted with incredible grace and control
all the way to our tiny feet.

The brown ones didn't fly.
The brown ones would melt
into the earth if you stepped on them too hard.
The brown ones were weak and rotting,
dead and dry...

The butter fish, though beautiful,
were fragile in many ways.
Sep 02

Everything But You

My stomach is tight,
It’s hard to breathe...

I’m suffocating...

I drown in your pain,
your weight drags me down.
How can it be that your
sadness weighs more than
my joy?

Let me go!

You cling on tight,
like a siren drowning a sailor,
I watch as my beautiful world
ripples out of reach.

You’ve succeeded in taking me down
with you.

I’ve lost everything...

You look, not look
STARE
at me with those simple, darkened eyes
and tell me over and over,
“Don’t leave me, don’t abandon me,
you’re all that I have...”

I look at you and try to smile,
“If I could I would, but you know... I’ve lost
everything,” I say,

“Everything but you...”

 
Sep 01

Not Dead Yet

The light lies,
a cruel trick, simple, a flicker
of devastation.

A drop of the addictive
pain.
So easy to destroy yourself,
such a calm heart
as you destroy others.

The body on the bed,
couch,
floor...
So still,
so dead and dying,
but still breathing.

Still waiting,
aching with the sudden release
of pressure.

My heart trembles,
counting each one of your breaths,
anxious and unwilling
as you sleep.

How long will I see you?
Not dead yet...

How many breaths must I
count,
as I hold mine,
shivering, nervous
tears slicking your neck.

How long will the light
keep tricking me,
until it shows me the truth
I fear to see?

Fear to touch
and feel, hear the
cold, empty stillness in your lungs,
fear
to taste not a drop
but a barrel...

How long must I wait
Aug 31

Envy of The Birds


I long for their freedom,
I long for their flight,
I long for their wings,
I long for their height.

I long for the view
that they fly to and touch.
I long for the water
that cleanses their clutch.

I hope to be born
not a man, but a bird
even if I'll
never again say a word.
Aug 27

The Broken Wing

Though I sit in the midst of a crowd,
and under the rood
of a subway,
I am alone.

The air is a mix of sweat and panic,
like an ant hill; all going somewhere.
No speaking,
no listening,
everyone in their own
battered world.

What a burden loneliness is,
like a bird flying with its empty house upon its back,
carrying its own weight
even in desperate times.

Not one person that passes me
has any desire to help
or be helped.
Avoiding contact with the people in the crowds
at all costs.

I am a bird with a broken wing,
crawling under the weight
of an empty space,
panting under the burden
of my lonely soul.

But even I, in times of need
will still ignore those that pass by,
never letting them know
that I am drowning.
Hiding my pain,
shielding my weakness.

I cannot fly...
Jun 19

Lost in Time

My mind is blank...
Empty...
unsure of what to think.

There is so much to think about,
but so little
I want to consider.

My mind ponders...
aching with a tired pulse,
slow,
almost as if it were
hesitating.

The calm room around me,
dark and shadowy,
too quiet
for my liking.

The sheets are cool,
almost damp.
I feel cold.
So empty,
staring at the shadows.

The silence
is chaos in my ears.
A warm buzz
like ten thousand screams,
begging and crying from
a whole world away.

I can do nothing,
but lay and stare.
Watching the grainy shadow
disintegrate into the light
in the door’s key lock.

The clock burns out
with a searing white light.
The hands freeze on four AM.

I sigh,
not tired,
but exhausted.
Exhausted to an extent
Jun 18

A Hiding Place For The Mind

Afraid of the light...
Afraid of the dark...
where else can I go
but the grey?

Where time trips over emotions
and the soul dissipates
into air.

Where fire is nonexistent
and the only warmth
you can find,
is rain...

I can hide in my
newspaper cave.
And chew slowly on
my solidifying hopes.

Watching my dreams fly
and taunt me from the
harsh light, and mysterious dark

I refuse to try.
I sit and regret.
‘Why did I give up?’

 

Jun 02

The Closet


Sometimes the darkness is my friend...
Sometimes the darkness chases me...
Like an endless game of tag,
switching back and forth.

Sometimes I play hide and seek,
but the darkness always finds me.
Often times I wonder,
‘When will I be found by light?’

The darkness is the closet,
and the closet is where I hide.

Away from my unattainable hopes
and desires.

My greedy, selfish desires...
to step outside the closet without being
ashamed or frightened
of how others will see me.

I understand that the only way
to escape my closet,
is by finding the light
instead of waiting for it
to find me.
 
May 28

The Backwards Clock

If time were the sea,
each tick, a desperate leap onto shore.
Each tock, a gentle pull back in tow.

No matter what way
I learn to swim,
the tide will always sweep me under.

Sometimes I wash on the sand,
miserable with sand grating
in every crevice of my soul.
No longer drowning,
but drowned.
I begin to feel the cold and wet.

Some say that time
is like fire,
but a fire can go out
with enough water.

There is no amount of man’s fire
to burn out the sea.

There is no point that we can see,
where time will stop
or be stopped.

Desperate as itself,
time is not ruthless like a fire.
Time is only mysterious, strong,
yet so familiar to all that live in it.

Some wish to go back in time,
but what a mistake that would be.

To redo every wave and drop,
to hound the beach a million
times more.

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