Intentions

Shadowed intentions drown,
the bright sunlight allowing
misery to be overcome with love,
but there is always a twist, a catch
that will wrench the heart and draw
tears from the spirit.

Monsters hide underneath beds,
never to show their faces,
but always to make us aware
of their presence, pressing
against our livelihood with claws
made of stolen lies.

They hide our secrets, our darkest desires
our deepest hopes, and our longing fires.
They overtake the love that overcame-
and we don't come away the same.

Replaced

With labored breathing of dirty air,
stinging eyes look into the fog, the mirror
of the town that has no voice, no soul, no life.

Ticking footsteps make hearts stop and heads spin,
taking away what is needed to live,
and giving back soil instead.

A time-bomb is waiting within this ghost city,

and I cannot breath while you watch me,
eyes so cold and clear and hard.

Flip-Flop [dark humor]

Her legs are balanced on the wire,
graceful in her skill, like a swan in water.
One leg moves past the other in a tight motion
and then-


flip

She lands delicately, with arms stretched
and toes pointed; it's as if she never moved.
The wire starts to shake, unexpected,
and even the most experienced can fail.

flop


januaryeighthtwothousandtwelve

Panic

Heart is racing, pounding at the cage,
trying to escape its captivity behind solid bones.
Breath comes quick, sharply, unnatural, forced,
but there is no air, no relief, in my lungs.

Body shakes, mind quakes, trying to think
though the fog that encompasses my being.
Trapped behind closed doors, frightened terror
beseeches to be held down, to be controlled.

Can't make a sound, lost to the world,
reason failing, mindless flailing,
tears shred my face like ice, numbing
my soul to the pain--

but it is there, so very real.
The silent agony of the screams are lost
on the conscious mind, but present,
always there, always lusting for release.

My hands grip hold reality, all that's left,
weak as they are, as I try to command them.
Darkness threatens to overrule my sense,
and, merciless, it takes its dominion.

januarythirdtwothousandtwelve

Darkness

heart won't stop beating,
tears won't stop falling,
I can't stop breathing.

Agony, agony.
Anger, anguish.

Chest heaves in terrified forced sobs;
it is raked by soulless black fingers,
violating my every fiber.

Coarse words won't leave my lips,
and I am only thankful
as darkness takes my mind.

januaryonetwothousandtwelve

to their knees

strewn words of kindness
but for conjecture,
because conviction needs no guidance
when hatred consumes the heart.

icy finger-tips burn, bite, sting, leave
traces of the inky blackness 
on the soul, deprived of mercy
from oneself.

cowering in a crowded room,
empty but for deprecating thoughts,
the noble cry, brought to nothing 
and their knees.


decemberthirtiethwothousandtwelve