distress

friday the 13th

one insane moment
almost real, a quick foretaste
of something not quite easy
to bring into existence
perhaps, in that moment
a god deigned to dip
a dainty little finger
and plucked at the
convoluted strings
that make
up the defiant pattern
my soul chooses to weave, caught in
a tug of war between itself and
the universe
for one insane moment
a single pure note trembled
in the air, almost aware of its being
before it expelled its only breath
and was dead
lodged within a god's broken nail

it was a full moon that night
and the god was quite mad

lament

maybe i will start looking for answers
when you stop being kind
when you start taking away the dreams

see how you have scraped me raw and hollow
aborted of a dying Thing that almost passed for love
its mortal father never even knew

a careful nonchalant flick of your hand
and Stories crumble back to dream-sand
you were always so aware of your powers

i retch and i gag and there is nothing more
that i could possibly throw up to cleanse myself
of this sin, perhaps Death will give me peace

yet if you would not indulge me, how much more likely would Death?
she always loved you most
i guess we all loved you most

ah, let this lament pass,
it is but another insignificant dream-shift
a minor annoyance, like dust in your eyes

but you never cry

agitation

i sensed the agitation in his hands
when things he loved started to drift away
he tried to contain them
in distress he clenched his empty fists
watching them stray
wander
leave

i stayed by his side
watching him
as long as i could
before he himself
stands up
and goes away

i kept my hands to myself

definitions

you define me
by the expanse of the night-sky
and the number of stars
shooting and dying across it

you define me
with the scent of grass freshly
crushed upon a newly-dug grave
of one who died in grief

you define me
with the way you pluck out verses
from almost-healed wounds,
snapping the flimsy threads of the rational
used to sew it together.
yet thankfully, you know
when to leave alone those
that gape raw and seep
with tears

you define me
and make me define myself
in all the possible shades of black
and white and in-between

today

today i am dark slash gaping wound
yesterday i was pulsing blood
that trailed across the floor
tomorrow i will be a beautiful scar
touch me tomorrow
please
i won’t hurt

passing by

you were mine in a former life,
or maybe i was yours.

whichever it was, i know that i
had stepped beyond your kingdom’s door;

or maybe it was my kingdom,
and it was you who sought me out;

maybe it was you who loved me first,
and it was i who was in doubt.

perhaps this life, our paths are not meant to merge,
but only to pass each other by.

we likely agreed on it, but i can’t remember,
and i do wonder why.

all i know is that once i was yours,
or maybe you were mine.

whichever it was, i love you still.
be free, my dear, i will be fine.

goodnight

i like to believe
your kindness is a love somehow
because it received my frail offerings
with gentle hands
and your silence has been a lullaby
that hushed my heart to sleep

even my dreams of you
are kind and silent

i only wish
you had kissed me goodnight
my dream-king

god of the spaces in-between

let god stand between us
for a while let us believe in him
make him exist, feed him
with our fragile faiths
let him be
god of the spaces in between
god of the attempts to connect
the threads we hold out to one another,
god who rests upon the frayed bonds
between souls
let him bless the space between us
bless what we have managed to weave,
make it sacred and true
make it enough for me
as it is for you

terrified

i would be terrified
in your world
my tongue would shrink
like my thoughts
like motes
in a dark, infinite space

i will not compromise

i will not compromise,
will not settle for
mere pieces of you
like distorted reflections
in muddy pools
inhabited by other nameless creatures.
i want all
your wholenesses
to be quite content
and quite happy.
and maybe that will be
my only compromise,
that i take in
all your shadows as well,
and all the pains
you will cause
upon my greedy soul.

old dreams

dreams gone ugly,
clothed in tattered half-wishes
and shriveled hope,
skittering in the dark
staring unrepentantly at the moon,
calling it mother, sister, goddess
in hollow voices
that echoed long-dead prayers
the dreams
stretch their bones sometimes,
cracking their knuckles
on my stubborn heart

i told my love, my love told me

i told my love: grow
be not a child
that clings and throws tantrums.
go, and come back
only when you can
sit still and be quiet
and act like an adult

love returned to me
it brought you
it sat still and quiet
before me,
an adult
i ached, i hurt
because of its beautiful gift
and patiently,
kindly,
with utmost grace it told me:
be not a child
that clings and throws tantrums
let go, and learn
to sit still
and quiet
and wait...
maybe he will come back

read more of the dream-king collection...

desire i

distress ii

destruction iii

death iv

deliverance v