Spring 2022

I remember the first day I saw you,

Dressed in no blue,

But that didn’t matter

Because I knew,

I was going to fall in love with you.

You have fluffy brown hair and big brown eyes,

And every time I look at you,

I get butterflies,

Having you in my life is not a burden,

But I know for certain,

That you were supposed to come into my life.

Before I met you, I was dressed in blue,

And did not know how much more I could do.

At this point in my life there was breaking

And people started to turn into faking,

And then I started to slip.

But I met you.

But I met you.

But I met you.

I kept thinking “ I'm too much for someone take on,”

But when you came along,

You didn't care about my size.

You loved me because I was so wise.

As you saw people tear me down,

You could always turn my mood around.

You saw the light in me,

And you see,

Who I am meant to be.

When meeting you I was scared

But I realized we made the perfect pair.

I changed.

I was happier.

I was chattier.

I was relaxed.

And I have had no urge to relapse.

And by meeting you,

I knew,

I was going to love you

From the first time I met you.

Air and Fire can work well together

They can also cause great destruction.

and work against each other

As well as rain chaos.

We are like air

You are like fire.

Once friends

Now enemies.

We cause destruction when together

Will it ever be like the old days Of peace?

There won’t be any peace because

You’re the reason for the bloodshed

of our brothers and sisters

You’re the reason

why the humans hate and fear us

We were among them

Until you got caught up in the power

And spread like a wildfire

Like the wind we tried to stop you

Instead we made you grow ever more evil

You’re the reason why the land

is like a battlefield

Scared forever by you

You’re the reason why you will forever 

Be shunned and

thrown into darkness

We tried to help you

We tried to bring peace

We may not have ever met

But it feels like I have.

I wish it didn’t have to turn out this way,

I wish you two could have lived a long life

But I know you two

won’t have it any other way

You two just didn’t do your jobs

You made it a mission

To know the students

You two did what you need to do

And you did it good

You two will always be remembered

I pray that we can continue what you two started

I pray that this won’t happen again

I pray that this poem will honor you two

And will help us remember your great sacrifice

You are my muse

You make me want to write

If I can sing, I will sing

For you

If I can dance, I will dance

For you

You make me want to try new things

To show the world how you affect me

If I could, I would lasso the moon

For you

If I had time, I would tell the whole world

About you

You make my day brighter

My face blush

My heart bigger

My mind softer

I love you

Till the end of time

To my love & To my Lord

Anxiety

Heavy

No, no, no: dense

Dense, hovering, dominating thoughts that never cease or stop

Schoo-

Paren-

Wor-

Mone-

Frien-

Never one thin-

Never a complete though-

Need to be one step ahea-

Stop, stop, STOP

Why can’t it just be one thing at a time?

One thing that suppresses my happiness and asks my tears to come out to play

Test OR rent and insurance due on Friday—the worse day of the week, the universal day

assigned for everything to be due, paid, and turned in

Weekly mental breakdown OR friends mad at me for being the wrong type of clown—an idiot,

and not a master juggler of all things in my life

Why can’t everything just stop?

Why would college be like it is in the movies I watched on repeat while having a “Graduation

Countdown!!!” saved in my notes since the second day of freshman year?

How could I forget that this idea of the “college experience” is just mockery to those of lesser

status whose biggest worry is if their outfit encompasses the party theme while also being just

slutty enough?

Why can’t I just cover up my worries and stressors with makeup, drinking, and hanging with

friends?

Why can’t I seem to ignore this dark cloud that cascades down on my future whenever I take a

break from making my mind bleed with laws, theories, medical practices, and any other useless

shit I learn in class that will never be touched on in a clinical setting?

Why is it that I am never able to slow down, breathe, and just

stop

my eyes are dry

though my throat is raw

you saw potential in me

i can’t keep growing at this rate

don’t worry about the heart breaking

it happens here and again

just kiss me while we’re here

only a couple days till you disappear, again

and i can’t help but stare at a picture of you

maybe we can go back to the way we were

but there is no way we were

just you sitting there and me thinking

and i guess you could say

let’s try this another way

but you wouldn’t bother

you’ll have yourself

and i’ll be here

I planted seeds along my veins and let the birds pick at my skin. I was hoping they would find oil

and rust, but to my amazement: black boys bleed, too. And how was there never anyone around

to tell me?

Because we’re not only bleeding now but bleeding out- in the middle of a world that cares so

little- and that’s what scares me. The black people the badges are so afraid of haven’t given them

a reason to be scared. But the rest of us will. We will find beauty in our skin and make sure our

voices are so loud it hurts and destroy the thrones they put themselves in, even though we built

them.

Black boys and girls are beautiful. We are not thugs. The flowers planted along our veins have

finally begun to grow and now the future is blossoming before us. In our future, we will no

longer have hooves treading upon our turf, our necks. In our future, we will be able to shout, to

sing, to cry- and to breathe.

In our future, black people will be sitting on a throne of their own and we will finally be free.

your voice cracks. your eyes, they water. you’re not the person you wanted to be.

dry skin, pale face, crooked smile, crooked-er heart. your mother raised you well, yet you think

like that.

calloused hands, cold feet, scars from what seems like just a day ago. these come with an odd

habit of forcing yourself to be on top though you weren’t made that way.

these are the finer details- the minor details- the designer details- that make you what you have

become.

they slip into your bloodstream and trickle out of the festering wound you call anonymity. it’s of

no use to anyone.

i can see you staring

you were never quiet before

i miss you so much already

i can’t stand this you

hollowed-out eyes & hideous grin & soul begging for something & something i don’t care to

think about

the ghost of my own making, doing its own haunting

i’m a cemetery walking

i think i need to stop staring

(Spring 2022 S. Gordden Link Poetry Contest Winner)

i’m a shooting star rapidly fired from god’s omnipotent fingers bound                to crash headfirst into the

ones i love most

make your wish upon me, carve it deep into my skin- the galaxy remnants flowing through my

veins will make sure your midnight wishes are heard and debatably answered

i may have never asked for this but if this is the me that is considered the cosmic first of the

twenty-first century

who am i to deprive the world of it?

(i never could be too selfish)

so take my celestial body and make it something new, something worth giving- give me

something worth living for

and i’ll be your new favorite constellation,

mere inches from your fingertips

She watches over us

Selene

Her chariot chases Helios

Beautiful

Her billowing cloak

Protects us all

Crescent, the bull

You cry

Endymion has left you

Your tears

Become our stars

Selene holds the torch,

No one shall fall to his schemes

She watches over us

Her chariot chases Helios

I thought that I was a colander

And you were the toothpicks

Filling in the pinpricks

Filling in the gaps

I thought I was an unfinished painting

And you were the colors that I lacked

I thought I was in need of rescuing

And you were the fire department

I will not let you leave me full of holes

I will take down your photos

Off of my walls

And fill them with memories

That will surpass the ones we made

I will let the colander drain

I will cry out what needs to be released

And I will live a life

So fulfilled

So full of love

So full of joy

That it will leave you wishing you’d spent that life with me.

I will not let you leave me full of holes.

I was never incomplete to begin with.

There will be a time for love songs

But it is not today.

I will bury them in my library

I will stow them away.

They will reside at the bottom

With your shirts and your things.

Buried beneath the photos

And the memories that sting.

There will be time for Ed Sheeran

There will be time for the Plain White T’s.

There will be time for Frankie Valli

There will be a time for all of these.

But I will not let you take Lovejoy

Or Los Campesinos or Remi.

I will not let you take what has comforted me

While you left me unloved and unsteady.

You can take the memories

You can take the dreams.

You can take my necklace

And whatever it means.

You can keep my letters

And the “I love you”s that I’d send.

But let me keep my music

And perhaps we’ll find our end.

I wonder if you ever think

About how we could’ve been history

In another age, in another life

You and I

Would’ve been poetry

Drama

Prose

Your soul in every word I wrote

The curves of your body etched into marble and stone

Millions of brushstrokes upon a canvas

Just to capture the essence of your eyes

In another life

You could’ve been my muse

And I, the artist

Hopelessly in love

With what I cannot have

And somehow I know

That despite how you would mistreat me

Whether that be by hand

By word

Or both

I would strive to find some beauty in that pain

Some purpose behind the cruelty

So I wouldn’t have to lose my muse

Even though you could easily find another artist

Maybe you didn’t like the way I painted your lips

Maybe the lyrics I wrote disturbed you

Perhaps the statues weren’t to your liking

Or the poems too abstract

But in this lifetime

We are just the same

Except there is nothing left to leave behind

To prove that love was ever there

When the world grows cold

And the ground turns bare.

As I lie in the warmth of your arms, 

I feel peace and comfort surrounding me. 

The feeling of your arms around me, 

Brings butterflies to my stomach.

When you leave though, 

It brings sadness to me, and I don’t know why.

It may be because I didn’t want you to go, 

Or that you won’t come back to me.

You find your way back, and suddenly the tears have gone.

I wrap my arms around you and hug you tight,

You do the same while you place a kiss upon my head.

Whilst walking down the shore,

The sun is setting down over the horizon.

I feel at peace and at home.

This feeling is rare but when it happens, 

It’s as though my soul is replenished

Walking through the woods,

Towards the unknown destination.

As she nears somewhere,

She hears the sound of water falling.

That sound is like a melody to her, 

It draws her near like a drug.

As I walk through this new chapter of life,

I am unsure of how things are.

They say college is supposed to be this exciting time of your adult life, yet here I

am, the shy girl with no friends.

Do I come out of this comfort shell I have built for myself, or do I stay here

where I know it is safe.

Shall I be bold enough to get over this fear of talking to people and make new

friends?

Or do I stay where I know I can’t be hurt yet again by those I put my trust in?

Anxiety, oh how I hate you.

You take those happy moments in life and turn them into a situation where I am

constantly overthinking.

Why must you do this to me.

Why must you make me think everyone around me hates me when deep down, you

know this not be true.

And don’t let me forget that whenever you are present, your friend must travel

along with you.

When this friend comes along, it only makes the overthinking worse.

Please, I beg of you to go easy on me and my mind

It hurts more when I don’t have those who know how to help me through said pain.

I loved when you laughed with me 

And when you came to my soccer games 

When you coached me from the sidelines 

And cheered for my big plays 

My favorite was when you picked me up from school

And we spent the day watching movies in your room

I loved when you cared for me 

and picked me up when I was down

You told me what I needed to hear 

Even if that was what I feared

I didn't know the extent of your disease

And the day I found out it made my heart bleed

I know you didn't mean to hurt me 

And the bottle got the best of you 

I'll always wonder what I could have done 

To save you from demons that haunted you 

The little girl in me will always picture the best of you 

And now that you're gone I will admire what I loved about you

(Spring 2022 S. Gordden Link Poetry Contest Winner)

Pawns

Be careful where your feet might fall

This house is winding, molding and shaping claws.

Take turns, in and out, and you'll see

Each marble title, each wooden piece.

And pay attention to the clicking in the night,

Read these words and feel the etchings on the walls

Old pages fall— in between bricks cracked, into seams.

Ink pours and slides off the pages, red burning

In scribbled rages. This house only last days.

It is broken down, by wind, and time, and fire.

By ashes falling, stones turning, under fierce desire.

A game of desperation and lives,

This maze was never a home.

Don’t be surprised,

when the last thing standing

Is

       a

           throne.

If I could freeze Time

I’ve heard that the bitter white of winter comes

Right as the color of fall starts to think

Taking away the vivid life that starts to blossom within it’s leaves

And replacing every beautiful breath of spirit with

The cold, hollow, lifelessness of untouched snow.

And it becomes the cloudy fog that haunts long stretches of

Twisting, turning paths—

Just as you start to see them for all the possibilities they hold,

Over comes the storm

To turn what was once the beauty in bold

To the uncertainty of the knowledge, and possibility

The impending threat of failure and loss

Of being left,

To wither,

In the cold.

MuSE

With my love I spent, future days past in

Lonely hills, and solitude of gray paths.

She came to me every evening in beautiful array,

To dance both our fragile minds away.

We spend the days up in the barley fields,

Dreaming of fate, after our lives healed.

She is beautiful, As the doves she kisses above.

How she holds her cheek to the blue belled sky,

As she playfully whispers her goodbye.

Oh spirit! Of peaceful sunny days well spent

To end our lovely picnic, ever quick.

When you Hold the World

Child, why do you fear life so?

As if the earth will fall from the grasp of your hold?

The land can crack under your feet,

Or as if God didn’t promise to keep the oceans low

for a while?

Do you believe that you’ll ever get old?

Past your dark rage, into a future, your Golden Age?

Or do you keep your mind on the present and now?

The way the wind blows through all the small things of earth;

The fall leaves, the green grass, the paper pages while they pass.

No child, you don’t fear life.

You have never had the opportunity,

To live.

I

FALL

When snowy peaks fall

I

Fall

Under frozen water

And rivers going north

I go against the tide

Searching for golden shores

In currents flowing

When spring blossoms fall

I

Fall

As the approach the ground with a bright grace

Every scar, every flaw, every wrongdoing

Shows on my cross face

As people approach

To take family photos at my stump

I turn my mulch hill in

And watch each with a breathless thump

When sandy shadows fall

I

Fall

In golden hues of silence

And aching fires just outside of locked doors.

I race against clocks, and burning hands

I watch as a world begins to rise

Rise in flame

And

I

Fall

Dear Death,

Stalk me you may,

Pulling from

your throne of decaying grey.

Soulless dust at your lonely feet,

Silencing voices, like fleas.

Between hands on numbers,

Counter clockwise and turn,

Death lead me down corner street,

Or bind hands by rope and drag my feet.

Dangle me like a puppet,

From your never ending string

And hold me under the current

Of every, ever-moving thing.

Face me in the windows, water, wine

And taunt me in the mirror, as I cry.

Look down upon me,

From clouds by day or night.

Decide each way to play,

With my cynical mind.

But upon me now,

Lay no waste,

Your scissors, your smirks,

Your time-consuming grace.

Stalk me you may,

But my response will never fray.

Dear Death,

Not Today.

you speak to me of devotion

like i wouldn’t have razed whole cities

to the ground,

for you.

i would have taken the fall

for you every time,

if it meant that you would stay

my heart is not easily won,

not easy to trust,

and it is even harder to lose.

i love quietly

and intensely, my true thoughts concealed

behind a carefully constructed wall.

despite so easily bowing

to your every whim,

i keep my distance

so your inevitable betrayal

does not destroy me.

you ask me to stay,

for you,

and i readily obey. very few

have shown me kindness

and you have stayed,

despite my harsh exterior.

and i am still here,

where you left me.

waiting.

roots have grown around me,

intertwining with my legs.

there is moss in my hair

and vines in my throat.

there, in the frequency

of my fading voice,

flowers start to bloom.

nature begins at

the decaying end

of my soul.

run,

young one,

for the world is not kind to those who give.

the world takes.

the world does not care

if you run out of things to provide.

it will only take your skin,

your bones,

your entrails,

your soul,

and once you run out of yourself to give

it will take the nothing that you become, too.

people are even worse.

they’ll feast on your remains

and laugh as you rot.

some will pretend that you always mattered

as the heart you tore from your sleeve

is crushed before your eyes.

do not fall in love

with the humans you create.

each one crafted in clay

painstakingly

with the utmost care,

your weathered hands create their souls.

do not give the humans fire.

you may have been their creator,

helped breathe life into them,

but they will never, ever

be grateful

for the risks you take

to help them thrive.

they say

insanity

is doing the same thing

over and over

expecting different results.

do you wake up every morning

still chained to the earth

hoping

praying

that today is the day

the eagles won’t descend?

the second

you fell in love with your creation

is the instant

you offered yourself up

for divine retribution.

you will never know

the cool steel of death’s blade

resting upon your neck.

you are eternal,

and though you bleed,

you refuse to die.

weep,

ancient one,

for the world is cruel

to those who love.

Elizabeth,

Would you be pleased to know that everyone knows you,

But not your killer?

You made this name for yourself,

No need to share your front page with any man.

Claimed a whole species of flower as your own.

Everyone whispered your name,

Just to feel it in their mouths.

“Black Dahlia.”

Over 500 people claimed to be the last one to touch you.

Soldiers, housewives,

They wanted so badly to be the one that gave you

Your permanent smile.

You are everyone’s favorite mystery.

The black beauty of LA’s dreams

Elizabeth,

They never found your killer,

But maybe it’s better off that way.

Maybe this is what you would have wanted.

The coldest case to ever sweep through Los Angeles.

The story they tell to scare runaway girls.

Black Dahlia,

Perfect and cold like a store mannequin.

Would you be pleased to know how famous you are? 

Your name stands alone, 

The color black belongs solely to you.

You craved a Hollywood name,

Your smile on every paper.

This is exactly what you got, darling.

The name of a romanticized mystery.

The face of an eternity of fame.

I never meant to fall in love

But I guess things just happened 

Then I realized that with your green eyes 

They're emeralds, ones I'd be trapped in

Time would fly, days went by

Brain stuck in a lull, attached

Often live and learn lonesome 

To worry of voids filled and holes patched 

But the times we did coexist

Were times conversations were natural

We'd radiate from each other, waves of vulnerability 

Vibes far from irrational 

But call me delusional, or at least overzealous 

Chances are I overindulged

As soon as sentiments cemented themselves 

I took the hint, but felt a bulge

A bulge that may linger longer living forward 

Knives penetrating plenty deep

It took copious climates of coping

To try to temporarily self-teach

Maybe I'm overreacting 

Maybe I'm just looking for a glove 

To soon hide my deep wound

The wound of unrequited love

Reading past words hurts

It shouldn't, but you sullied the memory

Of sweet succulent childhood

With dark marks and port wine

Your bite tearing my fragile skin

Eons in the past, Your body dying

Under the strain of perpetual neglect.

But unlike you, I saved myself

I chose to be better, than you

And the cycles and cycles of those before me

Crying, screaming, biting, and killing

The light and the bright noise

Of the song of dark demons.

I choose to be better than the light of God

If He even exists in this barren world.

I choose to be the devil who fell

To beautiful and to cursed to be accepted

By the chorus of pompous and wretched angles

But too stubborn to abandon the idea

Of living in a glorious paradise

And so like He, I build my own temple,

I carve my own home from dark soil

And heave life into its deep depths

Creating my paradise, my home, my warmth

The fiery depths keep me warm while you freeze

Your feathered wings flimsy against the fog

Of memory and of past sins

Burn in your deceit to the throne of kings

When I become too bright to banish

Baby cries dead even for gaunt heretics

He will be crowned in thorns

Generational curses unbroken by the maid

Her virginity shredded within the bubbles of glass

The hot fires of the forge furious with God

For lying such a beauty at the feet of a wretched man

Who has chosen to feel pain instead of pleasure

For he fears the intimacy of his mistakes

And whos morality has been long corrupted by trauma

Who decided to take the easy route

Instead of finding the femine strength to become more

Than anybody on this fucking flying rock

Could have expected under the veil of prejudice.

Amen, burn the cross, and eat your fill

Christ called for sodomy and socialism

With skin as dark as coal, and the hatred of white kings

The day I don't offend somebody, give me drink

For alcoholism is genetic, so sobriety is spectacular

And I plan on drink not a drop more

Than when I was young, and you fed me drops

And I loved the taste, and knew the names. Hated others

I was nine.

But im now double that and hold that child

In my arms and my heart and mind

As I try to find a sort of god, a beautiful paradise

Amongst the world of cruel men

Amen, pray to me, oh father

And I will absolve your sin

But not your guilt

That is yours

And only

Yours.

I quell your anger with my stability

Your flame fueled by my fear

And now the absence is suffocating,

A delicate snuffer over a raging fire

yet you desist, for without oxygen

Your candle fizzles out with a soft puff

And my bronze Filament remains,

Unaffected by your malice

“Get in the car

We're going home

You've done enough

And you don't deserve to see the sun again

For a long long time

So shut it.”

Your words rattle my skull

But at least I have my headphones this time.

You don't say that to a child

But yet you felt it was appropriate

Reteaching the lessons your parents wrote

But in a different font, from a different pain.

Your trauma influencing the brand of abuse

You were supposed to think it was cute

But it was the beginning of world war three

But it was all for you, it wasn't for me.

Paints carpeted my bedroom floor

All in sacrifice for you and your birth

Hands stained, and back tired

Canvas covered, sealed, and signed

But it wasn inconsequential

You keep it in a box under the stairs,

And tried to take away my latrine

Eight hours of work flushed down the drain

Birthdays make my heart hurt

Mine, yours, and everybody elses

Sometimes from fear, sometimes from abandonment

You did things that people get arrested for

But it remained hidden, because I stayed silent

The threat of death on the horizon

And the fear that you would never love me again

And more, that you would finally leave a bruise

Drink disappeared during dinners

But the talk remained

Unadulterated by the liquor,

And the judgment of others

You kept your circle small, weeded out the unloyal

Only kept those who would excuse your behavior

Allow you to beat me, curse me and cheat me

And join in if they felt it was needed

It was a horror show, crying in the bathtub

Trying to take a shower, but my body too tired

To hold myself up after being belittled and burned

Hurt to the home, and the disentanglement from parentage

I never cut my skin, no scars to be found

But I opened previous wounds, made them bigger

I drew masterpieces, to infect my bloodstream

And burned my hair till it crunched louder than crackers

I dolled myself up, created a mask of colors

Red, yellow, blue, and pink, too bright to saturated

To be natural, and yet they were an inherent part of me

A fake persona, a knight in shining armor

It hurts to remember, but it hurt more to experience

The people you were told loved you more than life

Ripping your ribcage out of your chest and twisting it

Till it splintered, and then refused to acknowledge the blood

Your hands held my throat. how hard would you press

Before I would cry out, pass out, fight back?

But then you'd spike my drink with rum

And tell your friends I was a psychotic drunk

And I was, drunk on fear and adrenaline,

Them pretending they didn't see the bruises, the pain

As if I wasn't crying in corners, while you smiled and danced

Making memories without me, though I was central to them

How is this love?

How am I supposed to believe you genuinely care?

Like all of the adults tell me, because all I feel is genuine hate

Bubbling from your chest and into my body, sticky and suffocating

Because parents are supposed to love their children

Not break their bodies till they cannot function

Without ten separate doctors, physical therapy,

And two sessions a week in your grippy socks

You burn in your fire, lit by your guilt

And you ask for the river of my forgiveness

To wash you clean, to snuff it out

But you haven't even taken the time to change your underwear.

How can you pretend to be innocent?

And yet I know you probably think

You're in the right, I was begging for your touch

That your patience for me, and respect of my boundaries

Gave you the right to break them, just once

It was a reward. Access to my body

Barge into my bedroom, make yourself at home

Sexual tension created between you and my indifference

And no, we talked about consent. How it was important

But when it came down to it, you didn't follow through

And to be honest, you didn't even do it in the first place

Words and actions misaligned, just like your front teeth

Bright sneakers and basketball shorts,

the epitome of toxic masculinity

The musk of a man who had never taken the time

To slough off the entitlement granted at birth

Woven into his skin, shoveled down his throat

Day old t shirt, unwashed hair

And yet you believed I found you beautiful

Your eyes managed to lure me in, bright and overly shiny,

I have a tendency to collect shiny things

A raven searching through the rubble for treasures

Valuable to me in a way society denies

And you lead me astray; though my gut told me to run

And yet, the blame is not mine.

I did not deserve to be crossed and combined

Into the group of women you have ravaged

Womanhood is a foreign concept

An intangible thing that has always been disconnected

And yet, in the same way that I will always be the eldest daughter

You put me in the 97%, high heels stashed in my closet

And so it is a mask I wear when I talk about my experience

As it is a lense that properly connects me to the masses

Of us who have been violated in our own spaces

For those who we trusted into our homes, hated our hesitation

And yet your hands felt like tasers,

rippling current though my body, bruising my nerves

I thought it was lust, a deep repressed attraction.

But I know now that was yours, and only yours

I absorb emotions that are not mine, and yours were bland

Strong and overwhelming, but the vulnerability repressed

You take to feel something, you trim yourself up to feel the burn

It digging into your skin, a raw gash along your wrists

You want to feel soothing, you want vengeance.

But you have chosen to be cruel.

While I choose to be kind. Forever and always.

And so while you shall burn, I shall melt

And reform into a creature more beautiful than the sun

Full of light and forgiveness

And you shall weep at the foot of the giving tree

Begging for the pain to stop.

Today

I saw a butterfly

Its wings were tawny brown

With a spot in the center

As it sat there

I could almost hear it

As it breathed a sigh of relief

And rested its tired wings

Today

I saw a butterfly

He had flown for a long time

And I could tell by looking

That the butterfly was old

Weakened and tired

But the butterfly did not cry

It just took a moment to rest

Today

The butterfly was gone

I’m sure that she’s ok

That somewhere in the world

That we all have to share

The butterfly is taking a rest

Because it's already worked so hard

So it deserves one

I don’t fear the rain

That pours upon forgotten earth

And though the storm may follow

I’ll stay to stare it down

No one fears the wind

That blows her tears away

As soon the wind will pass

And rain will fall again

Many fear the rain

That brings its mighty roar

But all the grassy fields of green

Stay there just to grow

Should we pray for wind?

Curing sadness from above

Siphoning our lonely breath

With whispers to be freed

Accept the falling rain

And as the earth soaks through

Breathe until your very last

Then grass shall grow anew

In the stream I forage for a net with holes much smaller than mine

The fish swim by and I can’t help but wonder why the future I offer them isn’t one worth joining

The water rising as I continue deeper, my grip slips on the handle,

 I walk by the large holes with the fish by my sides

We’re equals now, in the same stream,

Moving along in one great big net

The water covering all our heads,

There is no need for smaller holes, no need for holes at all,

Dammit! Despite it all, I’ll never know if there’s another net,

I’ll never know its hypothetical fate, if it’s capable of holding onto so much more,

If the fish it holds,

keep my future for me,

in holes never wide enough to squeeze me

Along walls, along the cracks in the flooring

Along plates piled high and artwork signed “To: Mom”

And “L0vƎ: Me”

Rushing across emptied cupboards opened wide,

Across a mug made in art class,

Mom, do you love it?

Do you love me?

Claiming our dresser drawers,

Claiming our courage to change our clothes,

We claim we can no longer leave our nest

Scurrying from there to here,

The bugs tear inside my tummy,

Scurrying inside, checking,

I’m really empty!

We’ve nothing to offer them,

And still, they don’t go.

Worming their way into my body’s cavities,

Making a home where we had none

We would read the same books, admire fly-on-the-wall writing, discuss how the plot of one story is so much like another that reading makes reality waver

There were moments filled with your songs, Faith No More floats in accompaniment with your scratchy vocals

Faith No More becomes Bee Gees,

Bee Gees become Edie Brickell,

The notes bleed into one another,

It’s hard to tell an ending from a beginning,

It’s hard to remember where we are when we hear them.

You wrapped yourself in blankets tight, trying to steady reality against all the noise,

Nobody had left this time, and still, you wouldn’t eat for days,

You were brought tea and water and eggs and fruit, and,

your voice a rasped whisper, you asked for it to be taken away.

You stopped showering and wouldn’t leave your bed.

You had weaved a wrong reality too harshly,

I called more family.

You moved to the couch, and I put on E.T., your favorite, because I know the secret of movies, how they can work magic I sometimes can’t,

how they allow another new life.

You didn’t see the movie scenes through your blanket,

You created those needed in your head.

I left because, even with the balance I struggle to maintain on my rope excluded,

my reality wavers enough on my own.

I was never to be trusted.

You let me in, your eyes

that glistened in the moonlight

invited me in.

I loved you and hated myself.

I loved you for the person you were.

From that moment when you invited me in

I knew that I felt what mortals called love.

I loved you for your beauty and your inner light,

a light that rivaled the Sun and Moon,

a light that could kill me or cure me,

a light that was forever sheltered in your eyes.

I was happy, content, until that night.

That night when the Moon was brightest,

a night when you were your brightest.

The night that it came back.

I smelled you,

I had been so careful

I had to control the Beast,

to make sure I did not harm you.

Alas, the Smell washed over me.

I could not help myself,

The redness of Death clouded my senses.

Utter Intoxication.

A being so full of life was in front of me,

I had no choice but to succumb,

your hot blood fueled me,

I was once again prey to Thirst.

I had taken your life.

Those eyes still glistened with light,

and I saw that glimpse of Heaven.

That glimpse of a better life washed away in blood.

The smell of blood now sickened me.

I do not wish to live anymore

my world had become dark again.

So I shall leave this place and be one with light!

O mighty Sun I beckon thee!

Free me from my shackles that are blood and carnage;

My fate is and always has been yours, my love,

whether it was to be in flesh or in dust.

I feel the power flowing through.

The power of the ancients,

a power that was used to make sure

that I was revived once more.

I felt my body begin to fill.

I felt the bandages I was buried in cling to me;

The splendid feeling of life!

I was born again!

I had missed the Sun.

Ra still shone brightly as he did millennia ago

he seemed to grow brighter in this new age.

In my new form, I was to be reunited with my love!

Even after all this time I still felt that same passion;

passion that could rival the gods themselves!

I could still feel your life force;

I could still feel your presence in the mortal plane.

I needed to see you once more,

you needed to see that love was eternal.

Once I saw you we could be reunited.

Forevermore!

You were not far,

I could feel the tugging.

An ancient feeling,

primal, ethereal, and blissful.

I saw you in the window of your new home.

Your hair still glistened in Ra’s rays,

your voice was refreshing, like the succulent drops of spring rain.

your face still had the power to captivate

I saw you once more.

The feeling of love and passion grew stronger.

Until I saw something dreadful;

I saw you were with another.

How could you?

How could you disgrace our love?

We were fated to rule together,

we were destined for each other!

True Love.

That is what we had.

I tried to say something,

alas my speech was reduced to grunts.

Then I saw something unspeakable:

A kiss!

A kiss that was meant for me,

that awoke something primal within.

I needed you to know your treachery.

I needed to know why.

Why did you forsake me?

How could you forsake me?

I did not realize that my new form hosted destruction.

All I saw was your frightened face.

I had been granted dangerous power,

power that flirted with Death.

I had caused your death.

I went to you and saw your life fade.

The feeling, the tugging, dampened

as I heard you utter your last words.

You said,

You said what you always called me.

You looked at me and said,

“My Artist”.

Then you were gone.

Forevermore!

As I was cursed to walk alone.

Was this what True Love was?

Was it this aching feeling,

a feeling that was foreign to me;

a feeling of despair;

a feeling of loss?

I was lost.

Forevermore.

They introduced themselves one night,

As I lay frozen to my bed in fright;

Their terrible silhouette barely in sight,

Antlers instead of heads.

Muscular forms faced me, staring,

Although without a face, ever glaring,

I count three bodies standing and daring

Me to let them in.

Just as they start to force the door,

They show me what went on before

Right there on the hardwood floor,

Many years ago.

A husband and wife, domestic bliss

Lean down to receive from the child a kiss,

He seems to notice nothing amiss;

Bottles on the table.

Ushered away into another room,

He knows not of their impending doom,

Only that he hears a boom

On the hardwood floor.

Maroon pools around flaxen hair,

His smiling face, the glee he bears,

As he looms over, standing there

Tasting salt and iron.

Before his poison takes a hold,

He hides the hammer and neatly folds

Linen sheets over a box of old

Secrets and dark treasure.

Lifting a floorboard with a pop,

He lifts the box in, taking care to drop

A carefully carved talisman on top,

Made of deer antlers.

With a rasp and groan he quietly pleas,

“Ensure that he will one day see

What we left right here for he,

Under the hardwood floor.”

A gurgle spits forth from his lips,

White foam streaked red starts to drip,

As his eyes begin to flip

Their gaze ever skyward.

Reality returns in a sudden leap;

Clearly, I must have been asleep,

For no creatures linger and creep

In the bedroom corner.

I rise from bed, weary and weak,

As moonlight between the blinds does leak,

And I step forth and hear a creak

Burst from underfoot.

To quench my thirst, I grab a glass

And ponder the dream that did just pass,

Never real and yet I’m drawn, alas,

to the hardwood floor.

At the creaking plank I begin to tear,

The pulse in my ears starts to flare,

I must, I must! See what’s there,

Under the hardwood floor.

Moonlight lifts the old linen folds,

A memory or dream? I cannot be told.

The darkness demands me to be bold;

Reach into the hardwood floor.

My hands find the box with shaking breath,

Unwrapping the linens, cold as death.

Nothing else matters but this box of Lethe

Pulled from the hardwood floor.

Hinges swing open with incredible ease,

The box begging me, asking me “please!

Look into my void, lest the inky black seas

Spill onto the hardwood floor”

I peer inside and my God! I cannot bear!

The beautiful sight contained in there!

How can I live knowing at this I stared,

From the hardwood floor?

I’ve seen the truth, the end to all strife,

And with this truth I draw my knife.

The box instructs to spill my life

All over the hardwood floor.

Enrobing the box back in its wraps,

I gently replace it within the gap.

Finally free from my mortal trap,

I rebuild the hardwood floor.

Before the last drops, the charm I see,

And clench antler to heart, finally free;

Praying to the beings that appeared to me

Here on the hardwood floor.

“I pray, I beg! Please spread this news,

Free my daughter, show her this view!

Show her! Show her!” And then, on cue

I fall to the hardwood floor.

How do you dream?

Do you dream in third person?

Or the first?

Do you see yourself wandering throughout undisclosed locations?

Or do you see the view throughout your own eyes and see

How the stairs descend and curl under your feet?

Do you dream in vivid colors?

Ones that shine and hurt your eyes?

Or do you dream in dull muted colors

Like the ones of a winter day,

Or the dark interior of a hallway

In the back of a store?

The colors are soothing.

They lull me into

A false sense of security.

Every morning

On my daily commute to work

There's a small, old building

On the side of the road.

It's dead.

Vines and green ivy

Crawl up the walls

Slowly strangling it.

Its once vibrant color

Faded to a pale,

Sickly grey.

“Out of Business.”

All life is gone

As the tall weeds

Slowly eat up

The foundation.

Nothing inside it’s doors,

No heart to keep it alive.

What was it like

Before it died?

I look in my rearview mirror.

It sits, alone and rotting

As it grows smaller and smaller

Into the distance.

Only the drunken sailors would tell you the tale of the ship that travels through the mists. 

Never boarding, never landing, it floats like a ghost upon cold waters.

Airless winds flap the sails and the anchor is long gone 

at the bottom of some ocean trench or poor town’s harbor. 

He has no home, just a half a map for a soul and he reeks of cannon fodder. 

With a crooked smile for a compass and a weak 

hand to guide his North, I almost see my love back upon the shore.

Kiss me like the sun would kiss the moon,

like how the moon would kiss the stars,

and how the stars would kiss you.

Kiss me how the thunder kisses the clouds

and how the clouds kiss the sky on lonesome days.

Kiss me how the rain would kiss the wind if it could, 

And how the wind kisses the trees as they stir softly.

Kiss me like the raven kisses the sky.

Kiss me like a sailor would kiss the sea,

and how the sea would kiss the mountains if it could,

but can only kiss our feet.

Kiss me like the butterflies kiss the flowers that grow in between

and the pollen kisses them in return.

Kiss me like the pollen kisses everything

just as the morning dew kisses you. 

Kiss me like how I would kiss you too.