"Don't worry, I am over it now.

I am fine now."

I can see the wolves clearly now in my head

Licking their jowls for the feast to come

Sorry, I guess I lied

But it's just small and white

Just like yours were...

"...I am over it now."

You hit me like a wave of anguish, washing away my hopes

Washing away my dreams

Twisting my spirit up into a knot

They can't be untied now

Those knots you tied into my every string...

"...I am fine now."

Those pained feelings reverberating in me

Time and time again I find

My mind running back to when you-

And before

It is my fault for offering my head to the chopping block

                -And you chopped.

Who can blame you for reaping what you sowed?

And still, I don't want to lose my grasp on what little is left...

I was walking by an art gallery last Saturday
When I started walking to the door uncontrollably  
I got inside and started wondering and looking around  
Then I saw God appreciating an art piece right next to me
I stuttered and asked him in disbelief what he was doing there
He told me he was appreciating art, so I asked him about the wars
He asked me back 'what about the wars?' and I just couldn't believe him
'You should enjoy art instead of killing each other' he said and walked away

Her world is teeming with black and white shades
Colors seeming to be absent
  All emotion is void and locked away
The chains are callous with a texture that is metallic and iced
She has a vacant feeling in a hole within her chilled, dainty chest
Where this hollow hole is, should that be a heart?

The only indication of any emotion that hasn't been stowed away, is her tears,
She cries alone

She begs for her life to end
Or at least for a new beginning
Her tears run down her subtle face

They fall, dripping from her eyes to imitate minuscule waterfalls,
And they cascade into many streams
Dripping
Dripping
And dripping...

  "Save me! This is a nightmare
I am alone
it's dark
And I can't take it anymore!"

She pleas for an ending that may never come
She begs for a savior that may never care

For all that she knows...
She knows nothing

       And so she bleeds and cries
The dripping of both, harmonize into one small symphony

Pit-pat
Pitter-patter
Drip,  Drip,  Drip
The blade falls out of place in the obscure hand

Simply,
Dead

"Tell me. Those voices. What do they do?"
     "They ... they talk."
"What do they talk about?"
    "...Orders."
"They give you orders?"
   "...Yes."
"What kind of orders?"

-----------------------------------------------------

<sub>Taste my blood,
crimson tears flowing in caverns of a hollow body.
Taste my blood,
liquid chains squeezing my achromatic lungs.
Taste my blood.

Taste my cries,
water that comes out as a bit too salty.
Taste my cries,
fake venom from snakes' tongues.
Taste my cries.

Taste my skin,
layer peeling off a plastic doll.
Taste my skin,
broken patterns of an ivy.
Taste my skin.

Taste my eyes,
I do not desire them, not my call,
Taste my eyes,
they can turn dead to lively.
Taste my eyes.

Taste my touch,
featherly claws that incise your fingers.
Taste my touch,
do you feel my breath on the back of your neck?
Taste my touch.

Taste my soul,
that is if it still, after my death, here lingers.
Taste my soul,
but beware--I cannot very often keep it in check.
Taste my soul.

Taste, taste my blood,
    taste my cries.
Taste, taste my skin,
    taste my eyes.
Taste, taste my soul
    taste my touch.
Blessed be thee who tastes.
Cursed be he who pain wastes.
'Do I taste like pain?'
When I'm done with you,
you will.

Damn, you will.</sub>

----------------------------------------------------

"I don't know. I don't remember..."

_{A shadow lingered on the shattered walls,
swaying in the light of the crescent.
He claimed to having answered destiny's calls,
so he gave life to places long quiescent.
But gods had been merciless to his young age;
throughout the traveller's endless route
they had made apparent their growing rage;
hidden dangers appeared from the  bruit.
He held onto sanity's smallest grain
fingers slipping through invisible ropes.
Broken symbols are all that remain
after the illusion of cruely stolen hopes.
His conscious is now much too frail,
and his words are now much too sinuous.
His impregnable diligence to no avail,
and his frenzied monologue continues.}

Our secret kisses in the moonlight,
The feeling of happiness just by being st your side,
The long walks thru town st night,
The promises to always strive and solve any fights.

These happy times haunt my heart,
The memories of our promise to never part,
I wish they flourished instead of becoming what they are.

The tears we shed when you had to leave,
The promise to be mine, and return for me,
the smile i had for only you to see,
The happy future i still hope and wish could be.

Is there some part of you that holds to these memories,
A small part that cried when i would beg "please"
A part that regrets all those broken promises,
those lies,
Something screaming "don't say goods bye!"
A part of your heart that longs to be mine,
Are you breaking like me deep down inside?

---

<sub>God how I have prayed to never fall prey
to the nectarine gossamer caught on the
cornerstone of your mouth,
a celestial house

Lips radiating like redshift,
indomitable as quasars with
enough poignancy to pierce through my very pulse while
you create maps, circumnavigating through these
black holes that you bore into my being and very core as
my spirit surrendered to your summons long before

I am an ocean of stark emptiness and
you are seemingly endless seas of starburst

You leave and I break into
cold sweat, blueshift and pale skin

Memories of starry night, air on the g string and
cigarette stained fingers about coffee drained tongues
hang on for dear life like
deadening leaves on dampening bark fearing the
fast approaching icy drafts

No matter the nebulae and speed of light,
no matter there be an earth or home to return to or not,
you are for always where I end and
begin

In you is my equinox and
together we shall always lay down and
die only to lay in each others arms soon and
again</sub>

---

Dip your toes in the icy depths of poetry
let it sting with it's truth
start to comfort you with it's twisting metaphors
I have yet to leave this serene lake of words

Ripples turning into voices
spoken with enough force to push me under
make me gasp for breath as the lines finish

Poetry becomes us
becomes love and hate
understanding
souls holding on to anything that's left

My hands glide across the water
feeling it's pulse
the beat of a heart romanticizing and utilizing the words
we have learned to make

Fading into an ever-lasting tremor
the tremble you hear when emotion becomes too much

Waiting in the pause
silence before the question
that one question that you know will haunt you

Hold the air in your lungs
the waters grasp has slipped
from around your chest

Breathe while you can
before the grip of a poets tongue
can pull you under once again

Strings of starless strands
lasso my sanity,
as a Lyzzard's tongue
slays unawares a fly.

Distorted snarls melt
my glaciers in the dead of night;
vibrating in the frequency
of tachycardia.

Falling upwards
in your wells of gravity,
you set my soul alight;
spinning towards the singularity.

A blink before the light,
the brims of Space
of satin waves
smile and unweave a word:
"What?"

A gaze is all it takes.
And the one-sided spark flickers ablaze.
Thoughts crowd your mind, whispering ill fates.
Ignoring everyone, you stare, amazed.

Your heart beats faster with every step.
She seems familiar, though you've never met.

A gentle hand taps her on the arm.
She turns to you with a curious alarm.

An awkward moment passes, with silence flying by.
You gather up courage and simply say "Hi."

Another spark, it creates a whole flame.
Dancing like liquid, it burns all the same.