A Butterfly’s Wings.

I spent all of this miserable time,
With an eye ever watching what’s mine,
Oh, how these strong emotional walls,
Break to bits when they finally fall,
Watch as my own wrecking ball,
Bitterly destroys it all in due time.

Wildly employing harsh strategies,
Idly killjoying my fantasies,
See how the peace is so far gone?
The why and how, the right and wrong,
Unsevered ties to my tragedies,

No bottom to the darkened depths,
no solidity beneath my many missteps,
Hear how my world is death rattling?
See my walls of glass as they’re shattering,
Around the feet that the mirror reflects?

Like a fluttering paper in a wayward breeze,
Screaming answers to queries whispered silenty,
A blessing disguised as an atomic bomb,
To explode and expose what our oaths have become,
The violent detachment of a butterfly’s wings.

Most Hated of Them All.

I hate her.
I hate the way her face displays,
all the things she hides from me;
I hate every breath that she takes.
I curse her smiles;
I make it rain all over her parades,
I saturate her blankets,
and every clothesline that she hangs.
I feel sick;
every time her victory banner is waved,
those with hearts as dark as hers,
do not deserve such good days.
I cast catching nets;
to halt the successes she’s made,
all the good she’s accomplished;
from within a questionable Human state.
I hunt her;
track marks in the mud from her chains,
her pace has picked up now,
but her attempts to escape are in vain.
I watch her;
watch each line appear in her face,
along the tip-toes of the crow’s feet,
so I step away from the mirror again.

Razor-Wire.

You wanted it…
you just had to get,
you begged for it:
a piece of me…
and then, that was it –
I did accept,
the invitation sent,
maybe ungraciously…
I showed up one day,
when the skies were grey,
guess you hadn’t been,
expecting me…
but there I was,
plenty of space
to smash in your face…
and put an end,
to the pretend,
of any friendship,
between us…
I am a lover,
but I am also,
a quick drawn shot,
one or the other,
and that is all I’ve got,
You asked for it…
you had to push the ticket,
couldn’t let it be,
had to poke and prod at it…
the red tape around the lips,
the sign that restricts,
exactly this type of,
unnecessary bullshit,
you ignored the gates,
the locks,
the razor-wire fence,
went on past the sirens,
blazing loudly out against…
disregarded everything,
spelled out for you,
in white and black,
bold lettering…
so don’t complain,
wipe them away,
crocodile-tear-stains,
throw it away,
and sink into
your own world again,
wasted away,
I forgot your name.

River.

I’ve got this thing,
attached to the feathers
of my tattered, right wing;
it’s tickling and itching…
causing me to careen;
through the air,
in disrepair;
everyone down there
watching me.
I’ve got this weight,
that drags my feet
in reverse, towards my fate;
it’s beckoning and ordering…
that I bow down, and subjugate;
kiss the toes,
belonging to those;
who refuse to let me go
and be free.
I’ve got these eyes,
tuned to a frequency
that perfectly filter the lies;
barreling and swooping…
along, at their’ sides;
so invisibly,
no one else can recognize
but I see.
I’ve got this shrapnel splinter,
burrowed deeply into my skin
through summer, spring, fall and winter;
humbling, digging deep,
all it takes to make a slice, is a sliver;
moon hanging,
above the raging river
bleeding all over me.

Hardwired.

“…love was as hardwired into the structure of the universe as gravity and matter.”
– Dan Simmons, The Rise of Endymion

 

Love is not knowing, but jumping in anyway.
Love is the feeling of stitches dissolving in your skin.
Love is the smile of an innocent child in the grips of wonder.
Love is a giant, canine bearing sea-lion being afraid of you.
Love is sunshine.
Love is an all-encompassing acceptance that changes your DNA.
Love is hoping against all logic or reason.
Love is being the first face to come into view, every time.
Love can be tangible.
Love can be fickle.
Love can bring us to our knees, in many different variances.
Love will NEVER leave us alone.
Love is darkness.
Love is light.
Love is the answer as well as the question in languages that humanity does not yet speak.
Love may be a language that humanity as we know it never learns.
Love was the mother of all Hatred.
Love is the force behind all of it, everything.
Love bore Mother Earth, the Sun, and every star.
Love is God. God is a Goddess. The Goddess falls back in Love.
Love can conquer all.
Love doesn’t necessarily want to conquer all.
And lastly,

When I didn’t love Love,

it loved Me, Anyway.

A Better Look.


Ask me if it means a thing,

the words, the time, the memories,

ask me how it seems to be,

that my gentle soul goes cold so easily,

ask me about who I used to be,

the one who was betrayed so thoroughly,

ask how much that continues to sting,

ask about a heart that bleeds perpetually,

ask me why it is that I can’t seem,

to understand the concept of fidelity,

ask how my heart came to be so mean,

when I’ve before, been treated cruelly,

ask why it is that I behave so quizzically,

the feelings, the actions, the ADHD,

ask how you’re supposed to perceive,

such things in the face of brutal honesty,

ask me about my isolated misery,

the trust issues and embedded insecurity,

ask me to be a “normal” human being,

and I’ll tell you to take a better look at me.

 

 

 

 

Thy Will Won’t Be Done.

My wrinkled face
is beginning to waste,
limp body, still hung,
on a squeaky clothesline,
that is tightly confined,
beneath a given thumb,
any part attached to me,
repeatedly gone numb,
neurons firing incorrectly,
missed the target,
subsequently,
my brain feels like,
a bowl of old pond-scum,
the day and night,
continue to come,
Hell or high water,
thy will won’t be done.