Writing
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In these hands,adorned in bruises,I have found somethingI find impossible to discard,to treat in its entire formlike worthless to scorn. In these arms,serrated with cuts,bleeding down to the bone,I am wielding something –someone, whom I cannot let gowhile this mindsurrounds itself, in shadows. In these eyes,sundered from nightswithout rest,under constant test,I am viewing who has…
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Wandering closerto those lips, a havenof leveled focus, of interactionwith the dust that collectsin hands that have washedmemories, from clouds. She has staggeredthrough a wilderness of song.She has reunitedright with wrong – the same senseof misunderstandingI am remembering during dayswe were pretending to love,in those disserving plays. She has stung her futurein sympathies, breaking her…
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I wished to see the daylightbefore it expired, beyond our rush,to be behind our need to toucha sign of pleasant hope,in this dimness,of worsening vision. It is this, while I wish to keep returningto wounds, that leak from wherewe were discovered, there,at a place where funerals are bare. I am living in our aftermath,but we…
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I don’t believesome spare bough, can stretchfor your scars, because I havebeen that one to keep returninga fallen leaf, for your hair. Even in tears, I land backto burn into you,because I aim to accompanyyour present image,in each droplet of rainto set the stains. To set the stagemeans to welcome both. Dualities, of hopeless futurewith…
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Deprived, somehowyou have surviveda descent, to crawl towardsyour four corners,sinking in order toalways arrive. Damaged lungs,breaths come throughfrom a face, that twistswith autumn’s reveal,beyond decorative green. Your crisp, wandering spirityearning for more to sunder for,swimming in depth over depth,layers of discarded touch. One lesson has never been enoughto remind you of a sickness,where condemnation has…
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Dilated pupils.There’s a voidwhere you surround yourselfin white markings, petals of a fallen conception. I have answered you,while you have rememberedone other time,making this another timeto fold a spoken promise,into a predicted deception. Fragile one,come climbingonto that dark horsethat will send you surging. Will you run freewith blinding wind,carrying your tearsto fill your depth? It…
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Why does sheseek surrender, in timesarms are always open?A breath would spreadher seeds, as a teardropwould grow her garden. Why does she find answersin her memories?She likes leaving truthat a door, closing itbefore she forgetswhat kept calling her back. She remembers a second,a moment, ones she collectsfor decorations of painto adorn her hallways,framed with harrowing…
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I tend to forgetthose tolerable simplicities.I keep dreams, more thanwhat’s a mere shadowin that corner, marked with dust,marked with a blanketof remorsefulness. I mend what’s rememberedin times of sinking pain,because I haven’t forgottenwhat’s true, as it remainseven what’s blue,in the beyond. I gather photographs,twisting secrets with everythingI care to keep conceiving –a conception, a beginningof…
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Give deep breaths,present channeled expressionsof envious, sideways looksdown the throats of twowho were stargazed. Their purple sunsetshave dropped, with curtainsstopping all remaining light. Sell their night,with their heartsseeded by the moon. Kisses come backinto surrounding dark.They’ve held hands,for as longas eternity remembers, just as they have swelledtheir years to fullness,with gravity bringing them downfor a…
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How we have instigated,intimidated our own,leveled each other, down to ourfoundations, with nothing morefor sentiment nor sensations. I clung deep to our light,though here I’m wading inthe depths of an infertile ocean,going blank in this mindthat carried on our kind. We were lovers, going graywith vapor that exited our lungs.Trails were giving us sails,though nothing…
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Understand that we wereleftovers, to be lost,needing a trail to beour forever’s sail. But how could we hold,when to our stars,we were never gold? Love has made usa town, to be faceless,to not be remembered. Love has gifted usa plain of ruin, because we were,as we always were,one step behind the latter. Life has been…
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Soon, am Isoon seeing you?You are not tangible,as you are not even closeto that once great pieceof natural architecture. I kiss a ghost,ruining tears at their fall,wasting seconds,when I could beanswering another’s call. I am grieving – knowingflesh cannot be a wallagainst time, though deathwill be an eternal fixation,letting heated blood flowin my branching veins.…
Modern Romanticism 