skyline distortion

smog is all there is now

no stars and no sun

just this ghastly spill

of wasted chemistry

and skies come undone

too many pennies, not enough thoughts

Buried in spoils, up to those bright eyes

Death in a shiny bag, what a surprise

Green is her bed and now in it she lies

Death in a shiny bag, what a surprise

She bleeds green

She bleeds green

She bleeds, and bleeds

Take this one to the bank, ready or not

Hurry now, don't delay, this offer's hot

Stoned with her own coins now, she could have fought

Hurry now, don't delay, this offer's hot

She bleeds green

She bleeds green

She bleeds, and bleeds

classroom

creaking hinges

subtle twinges

set your books all in a row.

tapping fingers

silence lingers

feed me knowledge; watch me grow.

notebooks open

all so roped in

teacher, teach me something new.

motivated

captivated

everything you say is true.

-it is, isn't it? surely.

fixings

realization

complication

trepidation

stop. this.

desperation

hesitation

mutilation

with. this.

motivation

inspiration

celebration

oh, professor

droplets of moisture on his raised brow

sparkling eyes admire the rushing water

over hard black stone

and he's alone

stranded at the peek of humanity

the younger, fresher something new

sitting in his throne

and he's alone.

world spinning backward

brilliant is irrelevancy in this dark world

brilliant, she whispered

irrelevant, he heard

potential is ineptitude coated with grace

potential, they shouted

but only to his face

marvel is looking without paying attention

marvel they did

at whatever he'd mention

braggadocio

Now my high horse is dead;
you shot him in the head.
My pretense came tumbling down.
It's the price that I pay
For the games that I play.
Now all I can do is bow down.

Project Awaken! Here it comes...

eros

the dancing of fingertips over delicate skin

heat fights the chill in this war that we're in

short gasps for air, so awake and alluring

melting within this disease we are curing

the fire's ignited, and we're burning alive

perfect explosion of passion and drive

lust whispers sweet nothings into love's pretty ear

secret admiration of loving touches so dear

desire

angel most fair with eyes so vivid and full of green and gold and blue

and your smile that sings a tune no one could ever transpose

you're my muse

the song that i'll always sing off key

always forgetting the last verse

just a harmony sans the melody without you

echoing in the halls of empty bedrooms and kitchens

longing for your voice

angel most fair with lips so softly teaching gentleness and passion

and your sigh that captivates the most frigid of souls

you're my heart

the joy that i'll always yearn for

always just a bit out of reach

just a love story sans the happy ending without you

delaying the eventuality of tragedy or horrors ahead

longing for your kiss

oh, sweet angel kisses

ethereal

Her imagination brings her to ethereal places,

warm summer raindrops on beautiful faces.

She makes quite the mess, then erases the traces,

magic erasers in gentle embraces.

The heart that's secured and tied up in laces

can't be held back from the love that it chases.

And oh, how it races.

stained

Mostly just darkness, where did the shine go?

It's somewhere, it's somewhere, it's somewhere, I know.

Reach deep inside, where the roses still grow.

Where the thorns prick your fingers and the blood drips slow.

Puckered lips to the wound will make it all better.

But kisses can't erase red on the new, white sweater.

Bleach and soaps and swirling suds,

can't wash away all the blood.

Time to buy a new blouse to replace the old.

Time to give up this stain and the torment it holds.

Mostly just darkness, where did the shine go?

It's somewhere, it's somewhere, it's somewhere, I know.

thesaurus

the white fan keeps on oscillating 'cause it's an oscillating fan.

just a fancy word for rotate, created by a man.

the air breathes my way, a nice way of saying blows.

the words we use are pretty so no one really knows...

...about the reality of heat, without the fan to keep us neat.

suffocating

Slow and blues with a heavy bass and not enough elongated pauses between sentence fragments trapped together and begging for escape from their too lengthy phrases.

-can't breathe.

Beautiful and messed up and sorry and excited and she forgot what she was writing about but she doesn't care anymore because it's just writing and not some show.

-can't breathe.

Sunsets outside her window but her blinds are closed and she's not planning on opening them for anyone today except for maybe him but she knows he's not coming.

-can't breathe.

Clothes cover her floor and they're mostly clean but some are dirty and she can't remember which ones so she just just leaves them all there and wears what's in the closet.

-can't breathe.

Soft red and pinks from the roses on her blanket feel smooth on her skin and she smells them and she doesn't think they smell like roses but she can't remember what roses smell like.

-can't breathe.

-can't breathe.

-can't.

-brea...

---

galavanting

the right hand's asleep again.

prickly pain.

the last time I checked this

wasn't a game.

the doctor's asleep again.

all through the rain.

the first time I checked this

is still the same.

numb and dumb and overcome.

daunting, haunting, galavanting as something better

than it is.

buried soul

It came slowly and unexpectedly, like the lines on her face,

Aged by the sun and it's subtle embrace.

It came quickly and passionately, like those hurricane winds,

Unmoving waters 'til the terror descends.

She'll move silently and carefully, not one breath escaping,

Secrets so deadly, they'd leave them all gaping.

She'll crawl desperately and frantically, heading back to her hole,

Searching in dim light for her dead, buried soul.

blue world

it's the air that we're breathing,

in and out slowly.

it's the way that we're feeling,

faceless and lonely.

but this blue world keeps spinning, passing us by.

and of all of the questions, no one asks why.

it's the tales that we're writing,

antiquated cliches.

it's the way that we're fighting,

getting worse with the days.

but this blue world keeps spinning, swirling around.

and of all of the questions, no one asks how.

it's the sorrow we dream of,

nightmares that scream.

it's the hope of a new love,

a great rushing stream.

but this blue world keeps spinning, always so blue.

and of all of the questions, no one asks who.

who can change it? i know.

eye of her storm

Beyond the quiet vibrations of his foot tapping nervously on the floor

And the click of his chattering teeth,

Her breath is a soft whisper that drives him into a new oblivion.

Chastised by the unshed tears that cry inside her mind and outside reality,

But merciful vibrations from his foot;

They pull her into the spiraling until he becomes the eye of her storm.

The rights and the wrongs all seem to blur into a dangerous circular argument.

They're written clearly in the Bible,

The ones they like highlighted, the ones they don't covered in dust.

Beautiful truths left untold for the sake of magnificent lies; stop lying.

I don't want to hear your stories.

But no matter how many times he says it, she isn't real. She doesn't cry.

surrender

Go ahead, tear me to pieces.

Light the pieces on fire;

make me watch them burn.

Kill everything that's left of me.

God, knock me down;

let my wounds bleed out.

Still, nothing compares to You.

Nothing in me is good;

nothing is holy.

I'm just like them, really.

Who did I think I was fooling

when I said I was different?

Not You.

Never You.

I was fooling myself.

God, destroy me completely.

I don't want to be this anymore,

not this ugly, lying wretch.

I'm not ready for what You're doing.

I'll never be ready for this,

never be ready for You.

So pull the rug out from under me.

Steal away my selfish desires,

until there's nothing left of me.

And only You.