Shoulders of stone
From carrying a life
A head full of words
That cannot reach to the heart
For the wall the body has built

A statue of a young woman…
No face is left on the weathered stone
The plaque with her name
Worn down by time’s winds
Long faded away.
The builder knew only her soul
Once years ago,
Never saw her
Never got to meet her

Arctis Tor

The red stain spread a steaming moment there
A frozen patch of ice
Held together by hearts
That beat still in a time
That cannot stop
Must continue forward
Yet scarlet moments
Linger on the collar
On the lips
On the heart

Every fiber made of pain
Not one second does it cease to sing
Every cell and ever end
Made of pain that wants to wring
Every ounce of thought from my head
To teach me that each little thing
Is nothing left and nothing there
So much so it begs us to be unaware.

#poetry

How I wish to live again in unprecedented times
The precedent is too heavy

Shoulders of stone
From carrying a life
A head full of words
That cannot reach to the heart
For the wall the body has built

#poetry

Let me swim in your silence
In the depths of your soul
Let me drown in the pauses
In the pregnancies of thought
Let me live in you
So I do not die for nothing

#poetry

A POOR DECISION
I lost a lot last night,
A phone,
Some money,
Memories,
And a lot of my self-image.
Jack has damaged me
Left some cells broken and dead.
He left me unable
To think
To hold myself together
To even control
My own body.

JUST A PUFF
Arms erupt
Nerves ablaze
Bodied locked
Time glazed
Cannot move
Can barely think
All after a puff
Now this burst of ink
This cry of pain at the lie
Of if you love yourself
Then why why why
Fucking do this to yourself

#recovery
#poetry

Two poems written for a friend who wanted Dracula to find them bewitching:

Dark auburn curls
A cascade of dark red
So close to the glow of what must beat within
A heart made strong like the bow of her lips
Arrows let loose from a cutting tongue
glances

THIN SKINNED

“What thin skin you have”
They say as they peel another layer away
The news a pumice stone
Grinding layers by the day
“What thin skin you have
Have you tried growing more?”
They say as they flay you
And walk back out the door

LET ME BE
Let me be oil
To help soothe your stresses.
Let my hands untie your knots
At the start and stop of each day
Let my eyes be lanterns
To light up your sky.
Let my words be soft music,
The nightingale’s lullaby.
Let my lips be like lemonade