Fly?

I’ve got these wings,

So why am I crawling?

I should be high,

But instead I’m falling.

I can’t take off,

My engine’s stalling.

I don’t know why,

But it’s appalling.

I Can’t Say “I’m Clean.”

This mask I show the world

These fingers I keep curled.

This smile that I unfurled

These words that I hurled.

The Smell of Apples.

A greenish hue hung in the air,

The smell of apples faintly there.

Clenching my fingers in my hair,

Frustrations lingered as I stared.

The tree’s fruits were nearly bare,

Few remained from a “fruitless” love affair.

Though the tree yet hung with some despair,

With it, myself I shant compare.

Whispers.

Whispers in my ear

Whispers in my head

Whispers fill my soul

Whispers filled with dread

Whispers long forgotten

Whispers just heard

Whispers I kept hidden

Whispers I demurred

Speechless

The flutter of wings

The flash of feathers

My hands reach out

But clasp together

I jump and wave 

I try to reach

This dove that flew

That stole my speech

The Line

I’m drawing this line between exhaustion and insanity

This line-this road, I’ve been walking for so long

Feet worn to leather and bone

Cracked skin and dried blood

Just walking, walking, walking

Maybe I should run

Towards or away, I don’t know

To find a place to call mine, my own

I need a place

To lay this weary head

Close these weary eyes

Rest this weary heart

And open this restless soul

Into The Fray

Unsheathe this sword

-this blade

-this tongue

Let my words unhindered

,like bells,

be rung

Swing fast and forward

Strike deep and true

Let all my words

-my saber

your lies cut through

Untitled.

Under my breath, I swore

To the star leaving the sky.

Red lipstick on the door

Was a kiss goodbye.

Sugar Plums

Sugar plums, Sugar plums,

Dance in my head.

Sugar plums, Sugar plums,

Dance till you’re dead.

Sugar plums, Sugar plums,

Above me in my bed.

Sugar plums, Sugar plums,

This place that I dread.

Sugar plums, Sugar plums,

This place is all red.

Sugar plums, Sugar plums,

This place that I’ve bled.

Sugar plums, Sugar plums,

Take this needle and thread.

Sugar plums, Sugar plums,

Sew up these words that I said.

Let’s Try Some Of This

This world is loud. There’s lights everywhere. Glare staring at me through my tinted lenses. A puff of smoke clouds the sunlight; the natural light that’s left. A drip drop of music blasts its way past my eardrums into my skull. Shattering and shaking. Numbing. Dulling. Lip reading gets me only so far until I just close my eyes. And then nothing. The lights are gone. They still beat onto my lids, knocking at the door. But I won’t answer. This dark is too comfortable. This noise. This silence. Another puff of smoke. It’s all muffled. It all got the volume turned down. Except this light. This sun is permeating. It breaks through. The false ones, the superficial, they aren’t allowed in. But this o’natural source get’s through with ease. And with the snap of your fingers I’m back. The smoke has cleared, the lights are out, the music, the music hasn’t stopped it’s only playing a different song. My skull has stopped its shaking, its rattling. I can feel again. It’s all back.