BrokenEvery time I shatter I
hope to god my feelings don't fall out;
someone will see them and tread upon them.
I remember clearly the other side of the hourglass
when I was me
Free spirit, strong
Spending my days reading, drawing, sewing,
listening to records, watching mtv,
Play-doh, stuffed animals, dolls,
When I used to make the rain dance,
when I could see the music easily,
when I was confident in myself,
when I knew my purpose
and I felt loved.
I can see this memory of being me from my own eyes
Trying to sift through the weight of the memories
piled year upon year,
I am an outsider in these visions,
all the time I have not been me.
Surely it's not accurate, my calamity didn't begin
for a couple years after that,
didn't descend into mortal darkness totally
until five more upon that.
Oh but to feel that clear sense of self again,
What wouldn't I give
to have the clarity and simplicity,
and all-knowing complexity
like I did when I was three.
I want to shake this hourglas
You saw me when I was just a young arrogant thing,
And burned your fire passionately against mine.
You saw me at my worst,
And released me to the world,
I was sad and confused and hurt,
But you still forgave me.
I watch the sands of time trickle slowly
While I still heal within and without.
You let me rant and cry and be foolish,
Usually met with the same silence.
I am not always so caught up in keeping from drowning in my own mess
That I do not try to give you all I can to make your burden less,
I would move the world with my words for you
And your gravity keeps me from vanishing into space.
The idea of you gives me sanctuary in this life,
A place to lay my head,
When no one else loves me,
Through these years,
You've been my biggest fan, my champion.
I adore you.
seedlingone, two, three, four, phi
life in all its simplicity
the delicate blossom quivering on the end of a branch
a steel blade arcing through foe innards
tiny drops of red decorating each:
vibrating oneness dictates a seemingly random pattern.
a fire is burning on this hell
a river of mud and blood and grass
it eddies around rocks made of horses and iron.
the veteran chokes on this smoke,
armour cracked like a husk in this heat
not yet deceased, will not accept shame or defeat.
just kill yourself.
no. therein is no honor.
the ha-satan has a blade for this breach
screams maniacally as he seeks to plunge it through.
Rage, as a draught of steam discharges in his face.
there is no beauty in the veteran striking this foe
carnage does not make right
a battlefield is not the place of an alchemist
making light of heavy metal.
Crushing the tiny blossom from the tree,
this act of destruction yields a fragrant death.
the veteran ponders life.
She thinks our whole world is naught but one seed of a sunf
inner darknessHis wings are folded
all his essence is at reserve
the dazzling raiment of this angel
blinds us from the darkness
that glints in his eye
the destruction of ten thousand worlds
pressed like a dewdrop between silky lashes.
Who dares grab an angel by the shoulders?
Who would peer into his eyes and see the horror there
must be a strong soul
for that is an one who must withstand the sound beating
from the enormous wings.
flightfallen before the dream
like some deep well in the abyss
scraping rainbow sludge from the bones
staggering from the graveyard
lilting to one direction
transfixed upon your hypnosis
rising from these ashes
ruptured flesh dances to the outskirts
this wingspan inflates
I am the angel of death
no mercy for you.
unicycleThe jester wheels about
on his lovely unicycle
putting on a happy face.
He wants to cheer your ills.
Tragedy; there is rust in the gears,
the turn of the wheel grates
in your ears
the banter scrapes your mind
like an iron nail
scratching across a slate.
The jester was out in the rain,
but he's still trying.
Anything to make you smile,
forget about your troubles for a while.
As he lies prone upon the
covered in the drapery
of a net of tomato rot,
no one sees beneath the pulp.
The injury is far worse
than a twisted leg that
will not be meeting
a decorated pedal for some span.
Somewhere between the fruity bruises
and the red juice,
a single tear escapes.
Soul MateRushing in with masks at the ready,
different versions of ourselves,
reality leaking out at the seams
Somehow in the sea of plastic faces
you found me and I saw you
this burning desire to tear apart the guise
to be next to you and with you
and know you
I just found my soul mate.
Somewhere we overlapped too much,
the realness threatened to splinter this finely crafted wrap.
And now my soul mate has vanished.
In truth it had to be that way,
somewhere in the bustle of the world, you are out there,
but we no longer know each other.
I cover my face once again with harlequin skin;
you roar in the other direction, mascot once more.
Our union is perfect.