I wish that I could rectify all my copious sins and lies. I wish I could rebuild the trust I stole from you with prurient lust. I wish I could remove the stain upon my family’s blessed name. I wish … Continue reading Rectified. A poem.
I stared into the chasm and it stared right back at me. My cries echoed off its pithy walls until I nestled silently in its precipitous embrace. The chasm walls engulfed me; the sky above sequestered and aloof. The comforting, … Continue reading Chasm. A poem.
Would you shed a tear for me when I’m gone or about to go? Would you wave as I depart, smile awhile, wander alone? Would you care if I passed away from this world, from this fray? Would you be … Continue reading Would. A poem.
I wish she would read this artifice of love and know my asinine attempt to swim to her waters ‘festina lente’, my yearning to sweep her off her feet and cushion her with desirous imposition, is meant solely to glorify … Continue reading Artifice of Love. A poem.
Every indifferent look is broken glass, slicing my already severed heart. Your indifference, (bricks laid by me), is the wall separating our dual Berlins. Your indifference is the pendulum that crushes me whole: nothing left and nothing right. Every indifferent … Continue reading Indifference. A poem.
My gallants and topsails, tattered, torn and twisted; shrouding the devastated deck like grasping lichen on a forest floor. My ship creaks and moans, weary and spent from the storm; a mass of broken timbers, of shredded hopes forlorn. The … Continue reading Wrecked. A poem.
Am I a ghost to you, incorporeal as mist, drifting on the fulsome breeze, far beyond your view? What would it take to anneal this brume, a somatic conversion to make me real? Your fugue is my grave; Here I … Continue reading Ghostly. A poem.
The stuff of yearning dreams and wanton, empty years, stuffed to the seams, stuffed with regret. How much more stuffing could this vagrant heart beget, stuffed full to bursting, stuffed with loneliness. If you liked that, then you’ll love the … Continue reading Stuffing. A poem.
‘Cold’, a haiku trilogy. 1. Cold It’s so cold in here. Icicles within your stare doth make me shiver. 2. Distant To cross this tundra, where wind, snow and ice, doth reign. Find a way to you. 3. Frozen Frozen … Continue reading Haiku Friday. ‘Cold’, a haiku trilogy.
Are you looking at me? Stop looking at me! So many people, I see. All looking at me. Who do you think you see? Who are you to judge me? Why won’t you let me be? Just stop! Just stop … Continue reading Paranoid. A poem.
These dubious numbers will not fall in line for me. Indeed, more’s the fool; those digits that summon up every heavenly aspect of you. A token parody of a prodigious, passionate girl. Just numbers spinning in my head and heart, … Continue reading Lottery. A poem.
Why don’t you kill me? Release me from this misery? This womb that clings and grinds me down to tombstone dust and empty dreams, restrains me tight in chains of languid and bitter thoughts. Oh, but for a little death, … Continue reading Kill. A poem.
I face my window Pale droplets obscure The external world In my tiny womb I turn To face another day If you liked that, then you’ll love the poems in my first book The All or the Nothing! And at … Continue reading Perspective. A poem.
Is there any such thing as a happy ending? Maybe only in books and history told by the winner, but not for me and you, we lonely sinners. I find I no longer believe in fairy tales or story book … Continue reading Happy Endings. A poem.
What would I do if you belonged to another? No hanging tree exists that could free my heart from your beloved tether. Would I drown myself in the incumbent surf, or throw myself from the weary heights, dash all my … Continue reading The Truth. A poem.
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