Incoming, Oh YES!

I have the backbone for war, for blood soaked skin, hair soaked in red victory. Eyes bright green, manic with the dance of songs written before my time. My stomach is knotted at the thought of what lies ahead. So many broken people, who will effectively have to lay their swords down and trust me. … More Incoming, Oh YES!

Empty

Forget me knot, the tangled mess that interrupts. The silence that pushes back. The wordless forgiveness in the slack. The humanity in the tunnel vision. The peace in the quietness in the monotony of level headed dispassion. I forgot how to love, today. Was more of triggered mental delay; a test in compassion. On how … More Empty

Only Joking

Close the door, please. Open the window please. Stand, in the shadow of the sun. Smile. Make eye contact with the devil’s souls. The ones that leave trails. Fingerprints. Scents. Dance. Mingle. Laugh. Breathe. Mouth the words to myself: Stay calm. Have a drink. Sink; into the temporary release that comes from the gift of … More Only Joking

Moving On…

Only half done, the sleeve…  but I am pleased. Four ravens. Four souls carried from here to there. As for the giant one on my leg – that’s my soul, and she can wait. She tried, and she failed, so the lesson was learned. There is still strength in fragility. Beauty in broken wings. And … More Moving On…

Can’t Dry-Clean Wings

She fell at the gate, her name rusted over above the words ‘angels once stood proud here.’ Somewhere between the farewell handshake, and the tracks where a bookie accepted her halo as a down payment, she more than just her grace.

I Don’t Know You

I hunted for you, in amongst all the garbage. You were determined to stay safe, in the familiar decay of the rotting piles of people- equally as bent on holding you down. Lies, flawless. You became the victim with such conviction. I applaud you. I wish you well, in your cardboard hell. I won’t be … More I Don’t Know You

I’m Fine.

There are seconds, sometimes long hours, where my head feels heavy. Heavy with a weighted accumulation of thoughts. Some unimportant, and some important enough to be worth avoiding. But to turn my back on one, means to stare at another, and the pressure is not unlike that of a boiling kettle. Steam burns brand those … More I’m Fine.