PoeticalCondition

I am la vie en rose , a newborn with as many mini bones in my body as possibilities. Lovelily , I am potential waiting to be tapped into. I am a spectrum of light, serenity in the symmetry of a snowflake.I come veiled in lace from everlasting love's womb with my budding, fresh, goose-flesh tucked tenderly underneath. I spread my spirit wide, outstretching my feather-tips &, supplicated by twizzles, I catch my ballerina's foot & fly. In these fleeting, finite moments of ubermensch suspension in multiple salchows comes clairvoyance, a kindness beyond the absolution of mundane minds.With the key to perfection being repetition, I pray you ...

fear coalesced with doubt, crystallizing in the pit of her stomach—intestines rotting with hatred, she prayed as the men passed by, eyes tightened against winter winds while drums beat to a somber march…her heart dropped, cerulean blood pooling around the soles of her feet, hidden from the oxygen filled air none of them could help but breathe as the torches’ fire filled the sky and knapsacks overran with precious goods…flee the city, they all did, with the pride of Russia behind them, their homes lay as ashes and towns known only by their wooden signs…snow shrouded the land and covered the people born in a winter only world—she took a sing...

Footsteps resound on small cobbled streets, and large paved roads and grand halls with floors of marble. Like a piano, I am your accompaniment.    Heartstrings cry like violins pleading to the heavens and you, the sound reflecting off the silvery moon and left painfully hanging in the ether.    I will follow Tread no farther.  to the ends of the earth Our world has ended . until there is nothing left of me.  There is nothing left of me.    Come home, love.  Dust and memories Come home, love.  of your arms  Come home, love .  are where my home lies, now.      The shiver in your voice belies your words.  We do not belong here under th...

She can feel our hearts beat inside small ribbed hulls in a blue womb and rests her hands on the shape of us, lays her head down - down to that quiet world that harbours revelations waiting to take form, to draw breath, to be born. I hum gentle lullabies to the soft untuned melodies of you lying silent beside me our hands pressed – crossed lifelines tangling palms forming prayers of memory buried somewhere in the shape of our lips, untouched in our fragile eggshell skulls (we have the same fingerprints). We whisper umbilical secrets to each other in the dark connected by the steady thrum of our infant hearts. In this hushed world, we are a...

"I hate hospitals.""Why's that?""They're always trying to hide.""What do you mean by 'hide'?""You smell that?""Yea. Smells clean.""I hate that smell.""Why?""It's too clean. It's like they're trying to hide the fact that people die here.""Well that's morbid...""It's the truth.""Would you rather it smell like germs and corpses?""No. But that's not the point.""What is your point?""It's all just too... pleasant.""Well yea. Hospitals are meant to help people. They're supposed to be pleasant.""...You've never had a love one die, have you?""...No.""No one should have to sit and watch the world spin on as if the person they love never existed."

Addict Addict Addict Addict A few more cuts One more slice A few more drops, a little bit deeper Crazy Crazy Crazy Crazy To get off on your own pain Messed up I'm insane Addict You can call it poetic Brave Sympathetic But at the end of the day I'm nothing but an addict

Better keep moving, Evade his deadly grasp. His long, tendril arms Inching ever closer. Nothing will stop him. Darkness hides him, Your vision Obscured by the vast Unknown. But he's always...

Your breath sweeps light into dark corners an ocean moving beneath your lips in soft waves. Light refracts into hollow depths a lullaby speaking grief into deep blues and long boats whispers sighs of love against the hull of youthe streets step lies over our tongues repeating as each sole meets asphalt and treads shadow into black each word falls over the page like teeth or the gentled sounds of love echoing in a silent grenadethe soft soliloquy of us shapes under a new world it murmurs into space and speaks satellites into black holes

I lay still in my bed, Mr. Ted by my side, And listen hard for the thing That crawls around outside. He'll start with the scratching, It's always the same, His claws carving the face Of the wooden door frame. Then he'll move onto the blood Seeping beneath my door, Dripping from the walls, Covering the floor. The wardrobe will squeak, Those green eyes appear, Voices will whisper Dark words in my ear. Their dead hands will tug At the edge of my sheets And insects will crawl All over my feet. I lay and wait For their games to begin. But tonight will be different, I whisper with a grin, Tonight I will show Those monsters a scare. They can come...

i. This distance between us is devouring my lungs. I'm left here gasping, trying to suture back together all the broken nights- the cigarette burns in my bedsheets.ii. I'm tracing maps on my limbs, and I'm painting black holes on my palms, pressing them into letters left on my nightstand untouched and unread.iii. I keep telling myself none of this is about you. But I'm reaching for empty galaxies as I try to remember what it felt like to be one of a binary star.iv. Light-years away, and I'm here- just another nova on your ceiling, searching this vast universe for you.