Writing
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To them both, everything echoes. One voice crawls to the other, but both come back to their giver, receiving remnants. Of what? Of hope. They’ve seen the other side. They’ve transferred more than can be undone. She looks at him, seeing a world covered in the butterflies from her stomach. She released them to him,…
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Famous misuse,rebuilding historiesinto time-lapse.Let this lingerfor more than it’s worth.Let’s be weepingfor guilt we don’t have,cursing demonsthat are just clothesin the corner.You’ll go, closing outyour fire in a puddleyou will mourn in.A smile has remnants,something no one knewlived in this room.You are near,crying in your arms,because I cannot carryyour charmsto your seductive,reductive grave.Your form is…
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In stages of white,you are leaning intoall that goes graywithout light.You drift into pagesthat have no dimensions,wilting without reason,speaking without intention.There is stillsomething that saysthat you willkeep continuingthis directionless steer,if always being awayfrom your war.You cling ontoyour bare world,leaking justone pure memoryonto the onethat came before.You never stayfor more thana small instant,defying your ownblatant gravity.But…
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Painless,because all of itshould have beenwithout these smears,without those tearscarving scars from burns,from a scorched face.You’ve been heated,because you were cheated,while this rain,from your heart,can’t smother a torchbranding your handsin repeated messages.You hold that lightbefore desolate eyes,keeping your pathclear as your spite.This warmthfrom a summer’s daywelcomes you to pray.But words do notleak from your lips.Hope…
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You shared with methis echoing symphonyof asymmetry.We were nothing butdisfigured figures amongthis intruding frost.We did not soarwhen tears weremeant to fall.We did not leavewhile pain enticedourselves to stay.What did we drawwhile being nakedin the sand?Holding out a torchto illuminate onlyshards of our forms.Blue skies,reflected blacknessfrom our faces,in the sea,where its depthcannot cover us.Our desperationpleads from…
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Something manifests,while someone travelsoutside of reach.They’ve been looking fora different place,for their second phaseapart from me.They’ve been wanderingwithout much spacefor memories,for scattered cards.Faces lingerwith subtle signs,separated traces,as words that hangoff a tongue’s edgeare just residue.Someone is roaminga long mile where windkeeps shifting direction,but not their direction.Someone has abandonedthese long hallways,filled in morning’s entrance,a sunset’s fragments.It…
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Stick to me,for I’ll not everdecide against it.It was the endto a curse,to the worstour Hell hadpresented.Come alongto run alongwith four windsat our backs.I’ll love untilfinite time willbe that whichdeafens hearts,cripples into ashall we never know.I will never understandthat essence, that entitythat created this feeling.It connects with strands,with pieces of shared liveswe beckon into eternity.I…
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What if I couldfind a pathwayback to that sudden,helpless second?I held forth a handto reach for your landwhere light always camefrom a hopeful heart.You kept reignitinga lighthouse, a beacon,alerting me to you,wherever you wereever dreaming.I gave what no one did,through solemn purity.It was always tainted,but is this the same?It hurts to go forward,while this emptinessbecomes…
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I’ve burnedmore than I canever renew.It is still enoughto recall it all,vanishing intothin trails.Just a memorybeing permanent,on a dotted line.I’ve driven it in,like a nail, for a wound,dying for a price.It wasn’t much,if its insignificancecan be comparedto an ocean.It doesn’t returnfor more than a second,blurred into distinction.It comes to corruptwhat hopes to go,untainted bya lost…
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Sunset’s absence,as morning has turnedinto acute mourning.I’ve lived here,believing in everythingthat held a space,that had a placein symmetry.Who cries, what dieswhen nothing but soilis left to be buried?A shoulder expectingsounds of weepinghas disappeared,while it keepsthe smearsfrom the lastinvitation.I’ve needed to knowwhen it will snow.I’ve needed to believein a path, where footprintscan always representa hopeful exhalation.I’ve…
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What might it look like,reversing a sentenced,discarded direction?It was meant to be dead,not meant to be unreadfor its poignant eulogy.We smiled after welet go of what we claspedwithin soiled hands.For we wereexhausted, of allwe could beeven in residualcommitment.We still cried,though we did notcome to ever lie,when dust soakedour soft feet.We were walkingdown a brightened mile,never…
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You swore to me,that nothing was everthere to be severed,when everythinghad always remainedto be blamed.Love didn’t connectthe dots, the starsas often as you wanted.You’ve bled yourselfto prove to mewhatever you believedI could not see.I witnessed merelythe stars, while yourscars were extendingwith the shadowsfrom another day’strusted ending.You hoped that Iwould go, if that willprove you to…
Modern Romanticism 