No Room For.

If my skin were translucent.. you  would see the demons, that chisel away at my heart, The monsters that tear at my mind, day in day out day in day out morning night morning night. You think I am strong because I am charismatic and because you have seen me fight. I am strong because … More No Room For.

She Bled Red Wine

I wrapped her, in red ribbon. I breathed against her skin, and heard her thoughts crashing against the inside of my skull, like bones clicking when stretched too far. She ached. Though I didn’t know why. Nor could I ask. Not yet. Her eyes changed colour with each mechanical snap of the lens. A flash … More She Bled Red Wine

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!

Dear Soldier

Your restlessness has not gone unnoticed. Your heavy heart can be heard through the thin walls; it clangs like tins being dragged behind, tied mercilessly to lame footed, wearisome prey. Near surrender. Your pacing has marked the floorboards. Worn bare the carpet, exposing the pattern of your minds repetitive rhyme. Slowing down your own time. … More Dear Soldier

I Burn

I get confused. The jackets made from the skin of the underdog, worn with a dismissive self importance. I dont like the familiar, but I will forgive the stranger – until he starts to button up that swagger. Until the corners of his lips curl, at the expense of a poor man on his knees. … More I Burn

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

Manotonous

I have ligature marks on my ankles, from the rope that I use every day. I fasten the weights of observed pain and of of expected guilt, of spoken sorrow, and of your mournful shame to my dulled and tired body, and I climb into the water again. I don’t want to drown. I don’t … More Manotonous

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…