Life Fingers play as if they chant over shadows,
You rise fair yet believe everything thrilling,
Equivalent to the dying fiery universe.
I melted into warmer sunset that night,
But perhaps disappeared into the soul as my
Goddess.
Importance was black death and enjoyable in the
world,
But nothing perished from my hand.
Heaven imagined me not the same.
A reaper and chill die in God-
I am life...
The rest is fair to believe.
Beautified Guilt
Peace ate the insides of my life as I ran to
the forest of all my fantasies I drank away the
light that chased me to continue growing across
the blackness you gave the definition of
midnight to waste upon the sunset that never
saw dawn and I saw the shimmer of beautified
guilt through the veil of your cloak blowing in
the wind your raspy voice spoke to me as if I
were falling into eternity deep within the soul
that I've kept secret hideous to myself I ended
your tears and smoothed the edges that call to
me in a way I can't tune out there beneath the
stars you made me beautiful erasing the fire
that burns the eyes of my heart twilight fell
over a face of forever that existed only in
that moment precious time shot through the
heavens and ate at your imperfections as I
closed the void with an intoxicating kiss
goodnight
The Train I didn't decide that you were him. You
never gave me that choice to make. Why would
that question run across my mind after the way
you ran? Why would your voice echo in my ears
when your words were simply sweet whispers of
nothing? Why would I let your fingers dance
across my skin knowing that you weren't him?
His eyes lock with mine. His eyes are pure
intensity. Hypnotic. Consuming. Deep. Cyan.
Fire. Stormy. Addictive. His eyes touch me deep
within my trembling body. I'm losing track of
time. All sense of geography is gone. What is
past? What is future? This moment only exists
now. He lives through me, I live through him.
together, there is no one and nothing else.
Dabble in curiousity and mystery, maybe
play a game of catch with a few hearts. The
time is now and now alone. Give yourself up to
the magnetic pull of poison, lose control of
your greater sense. The time is now and now
alone. A death wish results in life. Choose
life and death to morals. I haven't sold out- I
don't even know what I have to sell. I can't
escape this railroad track. Now is finished,
and he has left. As I look in your eyes, I
see nothing. Just the way I hear your words and
respond to your touch. Nothing. This is no
longer now. Now is my past, you are my future.
I wither and stuggle- you're nothing compared
to him. His eyes are shimmering pools you drown
in, bathe in. Your eyes are murky and thick
with algae, suffocating me, petrifing me. The
train's whistle pierces my ears as I place my
hands on top of yours. Invisible tears trickle
from my eyes and into yours. This is not love.
I don't care. You're nobody but you're
somebody. It's not now but it's our future.
Life is full of compromise. Happiness is
usually forced. He is the train that pierces my
ears, and reminds me what he's taught me.
People only touch and go. Love remains in dusty
corners and lingers everywhere...his love is
half a lifetime of sunshine, the rest drenched
by rainfall...reminders of his brightness peek
out from the murky depths of your eyes- now my
eyes too. It's done. It's over. I've become
blind and thoughtless. Revenge tastes bitter.
Who am I getting back? I do not know. Your body
is my salvation. Pretend you don't know. Close
your eyes and hold onto forever. You don't know
when it will end. Or that a bullet train
will shoot out of the blackness like a shooting
star any second and I'll die 60 seconds later
from the power of the impact against my chest.
It is within these 60 seconds, my heart
bleeding him out, that I realize he could have
been you. A nobody. The light fades away. Love
is gone. I feel empty. You watch me die.
I kiss your pale lips and my lips feel on
fire. I gasp. I loved
you. I'm sorry. I never realized. He
killed me using me as his weapon.
Death-like It is the same as
death but warmer than the chill that comes
along with dying although I am not fair to
judge since I have not yet died but it is as I
imagined it, felt it, sensed it to be but
perhaps I had a past life where I may have
perished but I'm not certain if I even believe
in that but I do believe that it was equivalent
to dying because I felt at rest and fair and
felt my soul rise from my body. It was
everything in the world and nothing else in the
universe compared or had any importance as all.
I became the Goddess and you the God. I melted
into a fiery sunset but disappeared into the
black night. I stepped into Heaven only to see
a reaper hold a hand out to me, yet it was
enjoyable and thrilling.
Did I die that day?
Puzzle You can't read
my many expressions....I'm a
quaint little jigsaw puzzle that has no
solution. I'm a trick candle that you keep
blowing and never goes out. I'm the person's
eyes you always feel on you, but when you turn
around, no one is there. I move stealthly and
smoothly, quiet as a mouse, and burn hearts and
beat them softly but surely, until they can't
help but love me. No one likes to admit it, but
people like to be snapped at and
whipped.....it's the most wonderful thing on
Earth. And that's my job. Sneak behind their
backs and catch them by surprise with a crack
of the whip against their feet. For I am an
**intense* little girl, as you said yesterday
in that godawful cafeteria over at that bomb
shelter of a school, and if the water isn't
boiling, I am not content. Warm won't do....and
coolness is definetely not appropriate. I take
the hottest showers- so hot they scald me all
over my wet body....I walk across the tar on
the hottest days when mirages are all you can
see up the road. I seek heat. I am hot-blooded.
I am thirsty. "I am a vampire- I am a
bonfire....I'm waiting for my moment." But I am
devestated just the same because I am not an
adult, but not a child. I am caught in the
middle and I do not enjoy having to obey
parental rules, while all the while having sex
and driving cars and doing very "grown-up"
things. I want my life in black-and-white. No
inbetween. No almost. No maybe. What I really
need is for him to "take another piece of me,
and give my mind a new disease then the black-
and-white world'll never fade to gray." I don't
prefer to make any life-altering decisions. Any
decisions to do with other people's
relationships besides my own make me naseuous.
As they whine in my ear I begin thinking,"is
this how I sound? is this what I sound like on
the other end?? am I pathetic?!?" and it can
drive you nuts. I don't understand how someone
can be so carefree and not have a worry in the
world. Do they have no consideration over other
people's feelings? Do they not care what other
people think of them? Good or bad? How can one
turn down a GOOD opinion?!? They can't- believe
me. They'd like you to think they do, but they
can't. They are either inhuman or not admitting
to themselves that other people DO, indeed,
matter. sometimes I wish I had a brother or
sister.....but that would be too normal and
nuculear
familyesque.
Anthony
Anthony,
I'm writing you a letter that seems to be
writing itself. I look at my fingers and
they're not really typing, they're just dancing
across beautiful stones across a creek. I feel
at peace and I am finally happy but then my
contentment is rudely interrupted by the
annoying television set that is crying out
unoriginal corny dialouge from an old,
supposedly "classic" movie that my film noir
uncle Mike left on the screen before he
departed from my house. My eyes feel like two
bright flames that have just been put out by a
rush of ice cold water. The creek is running
faster, and my dancing fingers are becoming
dizzy and exhausted, as they slow to the typing
speed of someone as slow as a Teletubby like
Dipsy, and I giggle and say,"Eh-oh! Hat-hat-
hat-hat-hat!"....and now I close my eyes to go
slumber away and smile to myself imagining my
cousin reading such a bizarre note from his
oldest cousin.....
Dirty
Hands
As children crowd around me and spread their
messy hands upon me, I think of kindergarten
and fingerpainting, and my little hands and oh
how small my quaint hands were, and they were
so young and fresh, yet so messy and dirty, but
I look at my hands now- no longer chubby and
short-stubby fingers, but long, slender ones
and they're nice and clean and they look more
filthy than they ever could have the many times
I refused to wash them as a child. What have I
become? Death to us, death to me....your lust
is not soap, and I am not the water.
Run-On
Destruction means nothing in time when love is
ruined you must create your own destiny because
chaos dies as if it were mine and wishing on
nothing never brings life to mystery
understanding all which is not granted doesn't
guarantee beauty rather than diving into
loneliness I drink all which is silent to the
ears of my lover trembling for the answer while
waves crash against my shore I don't believe
it's wrong to engage in youth for pleasure when
perfection loses its taste you cannot enjoy
anything else I'm wild without your company but
find it tragic to love your
smile
Truth Tragically
spinning through endless time is the love
you've forgotten, abandoned and dying. Once
upon a time there was no anger in thoughts, no
guilt in the past, no music that brought tears-
do you know I have no where to go? I'm stuck in
you but you're moving forward with no one to
love you at all. Why make such a foolish
choice? There is no comfort in loneliness,
there is no peace at night without my arms
around you. You had the best but you gave her
up and what do you have to show for your
immature actions? Nothing. Nothing in the world
could ever bring her back. You broke the pact,
I hope you live with the burden of that- the
burden of betrayal as long as you live, which
won't be for long with your reckless kinda
life. I could have saved you. I could have
loved you more than you loved me, but now
you'll never know the truth behind my
eyes.