Can I forgive you?

Like a horse you trampled my spirit,

your hand stole happiness

and left purple pain.

 

I tried to pluck some poppies,

but all the pretty flowers

in all the pretty world

couldn’t erase the memories.

 

Your force stole my strength

till only your words were needed

to make my knees tremble and clack.

 

I still shiver at the scent

of onions

as I remember the taste

and smell

of your putrid breath

and rotting body.

Past the Sunrise

Past the sunrise lies the white

untouched by filthy  minds

or poisoned souls.

Alabaster perfection

shining just out of reach

of mere mortality

waning in the light of day

and burning the edges of reality

till time begins to melt

dripping down cobblestone streets

and into ancient castles.

It revitalizes the bones buried deep

beneath the ground

and calling for the secrets

that had laid with the dead for so long.

Achromatic beauty

washing away the memories

of millions

licking up the emotions

that had always prevailed in a

dysfunctional society.

Scraping away

until nothing’s left

except bleached purity.

For so long I believed

For so long I believed

that I was a barren landscape

lost in the wilderness of my mind

trapped between dust storms

which pushed in each direction

leaving my body to float through life

as a shell.

 

Your words caught in my hair

and slipped into my ears

those few sentences

which washed away the emptiness.

 

The tears in my eyes

are not for joy

but for sorrow

for the emptiness I lost.

 

I loved the hollow

I loved the empty

I loved the simplicity

of being absent

from reality.

 

The emotions are turmoil

tearing into the world around me.

Reality is too harsh

to angular

not like the angelic blur I thought it was.

 

My soul aches

my body knows

my mind disintegrates
and I’m no longer beautiful.

Blue Violets

As if sprung from fresh spring rain

two violets peep from a dirty landscape

smiling with pebbles that scatter around their roots.

Aqua eyes blinking in the daylight

and sleeping away the night

when fireflies buzz by

tinkling little laughs

that echo yours.

Soft lips forming words I cannot hear

as I stare at the blue violets

which suddenly have become so clear.

My fingers wish to glide

across supple skin

and I yearn

to learn what those blue violets look like

up close.

Yet the temptation does break reality,

so I watch across

a lake of yearning

and only cross over

under the cover of night

wrapped in dreams rampant with hope.

When those blue violets open to the golden rays of sun

all that remains

is a violet

to be pondered upon

by an innocent beauty.

Frozen

The nightmares that plagued the frozen statues

wrapped cold tendrils around the warmth breath

that escaped from parted lips.

embraced the world, hands outstretched

to welcome the galaxy into her soul.

Breathing is the rippling tides of time

she tightened her tendons and took

a trembling step.

The weakness penetrated through thawed bones

for the sight was chilling –

the lines of statues facing towards a

bloody horizon.

As she looked upon the desolate scene

the nightmare slipped inside

and started to spread

the ice.

Soon she was nothing more

than another statue

lost in the everlasting army

of frozen souls.

Dancing with Shadows

We dance with the shadows

mapping out the words we want to say

with our bodies movements

and pointed feet.

Our muscles strain as we support the other

flying through the air

as if without gravity to guide our senses.

We remain unhinged from reality

stretching the lengths of time

as our bodies twirl

and dip

bending towards each other

only to slip away again.

We are two dancers

trapped in an icy world

of our own

dancing away the time

with only the shadows

to give us the hope

that we still exist.

Unrecognizable

The earth has shifted,

the world has sung it’s song.

 

Lives have begun and ended

with the click of an angel’s fingers.

 

Mermaids sit atop sinking rocks

singing the theme song

of our destruction.

 

Demons lurk in shadows

licking lips with tongues

that already taste our blood.

 

The echoes have risen from the dead

to enter silent minds

and alter memories.

 

The earth has shifted

and we are no longer there.

Absence

The absence was profound,

tapping on the consciousness

and reminding it that something had fled.

 

The mind craved to fill the emptiness

reaching to unnatural sustenance

to complete itself.

 

The body grew in different ways

stretching to birth a new gap.

 

The absence brought a hunger

insatiable

and unwound by insanity.

 

Time clicked on,

marked by the waves

of consciousness.

 

As she grew

the numbers did too.

 

But the absence only flourished,

fed by the impenetrable sadness.