Creating Writing
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I fought, alonga dividing line,replacing your covered formthat bruised itself in the sun.Are there more placesto run, like there are facesfor your sceneryto shun? To reveal you,unveiling youamong blinding lightbrings retaliation from you,bringing yourself backto a forgiving night. Shadows bandage you,smear apart your tearsfrom a wasteful expression.A lone sight, marvelingall of our anticipation, as it
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You’ve emptied me,as I lay here, sprawling.I’ve remembered youas you are covered in ash.You are deformed,in your hollowness,with tears decorating miles. Your frozen eyes,a stillness that matcheswhere you are standing.There is iceroping your feet,leashing your paceinto an eternal footprint. You do not move.You remain steady,having me, to beyour constant observer. I funnel apart from thisan
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Thin wires, ripping throughlike slender candles, all the waydown to your fingers, where their edgeswere where I sent screams away.Who drowned to let us float?Who knew as much as we did,while we were always draggingour scars, that close? Portraits are a grave reminderof what we’ve seen in another.Lifted fire, against our cheeks,turning us golden, with
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Elaborate your life, apartfrom the interior.I have heard those echoes,those fears or those memoriesof tomorrow. Was it ever yesterday? Was it when we were allhoping to receive you,to relight your eyes,to erase your cries? A light that retaliatesagainst your vulnerable,venerable self.Just a noble pursuitof nothingness,flinging your steps forward,repeating the emptiness. You anticipate,while you commemorateyour future,
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Capture this, what we have become,dragged into this – a misfortuneof one we’ve named a safety.Held close, diamonds rush past,in this burning air. We’ve come together, blendedlike dark within dark.We’re entwined in either’s thoughts,facing voids, enough that wehave begun to avoidwhat stirs the most noise. We breathe over each other,loosening tears upon another,while leading ourselves
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Revealed numbers – our timeto spark memories to our eyesthat let fall tears into opened hands.I see what comes, shimmeringits form into these arms,as I let its damages be mendedin a universe, swollen with love’sblanketing aura. A golden guess, to that amount –a number of stars reflected in an oceanwhere we bathe, where we gatherour
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Chance this welcome,face this sentencingto another’s wishful summerof gathering togetherpetals that fall in reverse,towards a vacant sky. I am full, with these handsmotioning for a swaying tune.I am enticed, reaching fora carmine red,I’ve come to abhor. She signals, with her shadowsdrawing a curtain around me,while I leave a worldover these fallen shoulders. I am not
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They’ve rained their stares,driving their wind,being insensitive, for a sensitivemind that fails to recognizea paralyzed kind. Futures are all abroad,across an ocean of time-lapse.Histories feed over a ropefor a pitiless balance,shouldering sicknesswith one vulnerable witness. Who knows the restof where we go?Losing darkness,finding one’s way backnot to a beginning,though away from an ending. Words are
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I swear, I’ve seensomeone else, standingfar from me.You are runningwith water, with mireflooding for your gatesto open, to keep you goingto that setting sunthat puts you to sleep. Once, I loveda careless coverageof infinite shadows,while all I came to seeis what brought meto my knees, without mercy. I brought kissesto those overturned hands,loosening stones, losing
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Where you were,where you remained,turning to icewhile I, with these sheetsof paper, captured youin words of blue. I’ll continue to knowhow love caused us to bleedwith startling consequence,with faces that were fewto watch us, to leave uswith utmost pity. A state of knowingwho we were,bathing under those ashes,giving into those secondswe were true,we still knew.
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Helplessly holdingthis passing wind,letting myself fall backinto your voice. I have heard a word,choosing to collapse,wanting to come down, fatal with the structureof an empire, gone coldwith this love, too old. You have said,“Who are you,when you are buildingyour presence, near to mypainful absence?” I rememberwhat keeps weepingits moments, into mine,into my wearied sight.You wereeverything
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Hear this,knowing what’s leftof a sad manwith his beating heart,racing for apocalyptic fitsof senseless rediscovery. He wants to see,he wants to cryshapes of what he’s lost,holding hands with someonein the mist. Another pointless resupplyto that heart that lives onin ceaseless moments,though not without momentum,not without that pushtowards a bottomless hole,where reflections failto look back. He
Modern Romanticism 