Writing
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Our part to playcomes out to washthe dark away.Our eyes do moreto listen to each other,while it’s our earsdoing more to retain,with our handsbrought togetherto collect the rain.I feel the burstsfrom our loyal heartsin their quickened rhythm,chiming the versewe’ve held back,until it came timeto speak its symphony.Personal cueswere what led usto wait, though not tocover…
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I’ve felt itin your pattern,in your sickness.It’s what’s worsewhen it gets betterthan what gets worse,when what’s betteris what I’m blinded bywhen I’m filling inthose uncovered spotsto mute your cry.I’ve seen iteven when seeingthe darkness insidethe infected woundsyou don’t hidewhen I’m here torelieve you.I’ve seen youfor what you are,while I let myself beyour colorless mask,your disguise.I…
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You come througha door left openfor a stream of thoughtsto enter withoutan invitation.I do not want this haunt,but you are herealways in place of mydrifting sanity.I’m enclosed, while youmake this crawl spacea mansion with hallwaysechoing your cry.I am followingwhere tears are flowing.I am not connectingwhat dots were arrangedfor me to find meaningin anything other thanthis…
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Another roundaboutheld close, never doubtingwhat direction I tookto get undressed for you -the reflection thatnever faces me,completely.I always seewhat does moreto review what Ilong to no longerbe what I view.The future looks likea growing circle of dust,an expanding pathwhere I’m addicted toreapplied rust.I am soundlessin the soundscape,crying with pleasfrozen on a tongue.I am dreamlessin the…
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You’ve been too wordless,dried at your mouth,worried about the nextagonizing endeavorthat is what othersare telling you to beand what to leave.The weather had neverbeen your prediction,because you’re premadefor your empire,for your destiny.You’re wired to bewhat these blank pagescompel you to bewhile you disbelieve.For as long as youfreeze right there,where your endinghas started,you’ll never breathe.You’ll drown…
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While we wereliving the emptinessof each breath,holding onto the signsthat kept us goingthrough the rain,creating puddlesfrom dissolved reflections,you were always an oceantoo far from where I wasstanding here,in the mist,shapeless in the fogof my spirit.Nothing had been warm,though everything had soundmuch like thunder,much like what weatherkept us together.We shouted, we vocalizedour pain into stormsthat never…
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I sense what wewere made to create,buried always underthese torrents,these soundsthat never cease,that never leave.Winds come asdestructive whirlwinds,never what oughtto be that handto guide us.What’s left to believe,while eyes are alwaysfinding a reasonto flood the fields?We find that seasonwhere tears are shedin their splendid arrayof decaying colors.We glistenin places where springis never present,deciding that silencegives…
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Ultimately,you’ve survivedmuch more thanmost do,depriving yourselfof a step or twoto take a single breath,to keep yourselffar from the reachof the hand of death.But I seemore than whatyou might,while you’re therebleeding untilyour bare woundsare a presentationfor an indifferent,soundless world.Please be it,go beyond to bewhat you weremeant to be.Instead of survivingthe aftereffectsof this wreckage,instead of decoratingyour fortress…
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Rooted in,leaving inthe various waysit’s able to twistinto those shapes,the oneswe don’t want,while we’re bitinginto the ironof our wounds.Standing out,holding outthe state of ourflooding decay.We’ve kept goingto be morethan anything less,drifting nowhereon an ocean we madewith our years.Growing oldwith everything leftto be cold for,losing wisdomfrom the lessonswe will abhorfor our remaining,unused time,exposing limitsin the dust.
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To be stubborn,being tornunder the slightest,discernable signthat enough was ourunwanted tragedy.We were morewhen we wanted moreto cut our arms with,filling moatswith our blood,dividing our statesinto ways we bend,ways we break.Once had been it,until we began countingthe steps we tookto get there.That sight had broughtour hunger to stir,our teeth to begin bitinginto our surroundings.We were dreamingof…
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What’s left to knowwhile being blindedunder falling snow?I’m left to seewhat’s become of me,hoping for the restto get redressed,to be the lasting excuseto look the other way.I don’t want to believe,while I can hope tocrawl back to the past,having an oceanas a dragging weightaround broken feet.I’ve been crying for miles,knowing nothingof what I’ve been carryingupon…
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Swirls upliftthe parts to describe,once you’re undressedto see the woundsyou’ve cried over,leaving half your nightsembedded in coldness.I see in your skinthose old reflections,shattered underthe weight of indecision.Help yourselfto a different feast,letting yourselfcome down to where Ihave made enoughfor us both.Your scars are ample,while stars are infinite.To see the setting sun,you can always come bywithout wanting…
Modern Romanticism 