I whisper in the whirlwind,
and your smile greets my call.
Hand in hand we swing idly,
humming our tune in the valley.
Your eyes mollasses, your breath honey,
I sway to the song of your stories.
A little oak player bumping its tune.
Do you remember that Spring day?
Do you remember the words you used to say?
I knew what it meant I knew the words too.
I knew what it was that we all had to do.
So I sit now, our trials complete.
Your head in your lap, your love at my feet.
And I know what it means to be the one true
Yes my darling, I have to say, "I love you."

My mask grows unsteady.
I've tasted the poison.
I prevail in the aura.
Blend my persona, I am ready.
Save the skin, feed me the mind.
Lie to me, this I do surmise.
Thank you, hold my hand.
I delude of Dorian Grey.
Delusions of grand fear.
Lonely, stark cold, lovely.
A jam jar built from marble.
A steed on a corpse.
Maps, dreams, peace filled, juxtaposed.
Lie to me darling, take me to the moon.

Juxtaposed screams rain from the clock tower.
     Internal fire, external relief.
Oozing through the crevice I sit and stare.
     Lavishing every ounce of passion.
Desire cracking through to the mantle.
    Off-setting the pain, replaced with a burn.
Immediately grasping at the straws.
    Volumes aborted to the spit-fire.
Embers the final proof of their love.
    Enchanted I call to the heart of it all.

You.

Draw a line in the sand and sleep upon
its precipice.
Bury its words in a soup of your blood
and prejudice.

Cast your gaze to the horizon with the
blossoming truth.
Shades of purple, red, and yellow reflect
your waning youth.

Whisper to the wind, let it draw your words
across her mind.
Softly smile, let the chill announce that
you're out of time.

Whisper my name in the brambling bush.
How do you know what this means?
Oh mother, oh father, there is no need to rush.
Take my hand, walk with me, can't we just wipe this slate clean?

Push her ahead through the forest anew,
dancing so idly by.
fill her head with visions rotten, depressed, and blue.
Hold her hair, douse her skin, and let her soul solemnly sigh.

Will you remember a shadow's glance
as it pierces into your mind and soul?

Or perhaps the hollow dead man's dance
brings nothing more than embers and coal.

Droplets of Dramamine carried away
into swirling seafoam, your spirits lift.

Touched down, the eve of the curs'd day,
the tide of your life surely must shift.

Peer into the cold pearlescent mist.
Shimmy and shine, and then idly fade.

A tepid balance, struggle to coexist.
With finality, the earth meets the *****.

Every version of me
Loves
Every version of you.

Yesterday.
Today.
Tomorrow.

I love you.

Partners.
Friends.
Strangers.

I love you.

A pinprick prods at the weary old soul,
flickering above and beyond its grasp.
Laughing and cursing, it digs up the pain.
Ripping and tearing, 'til we lose control.

Silence, then whispers, weary photographs.
All imprinted, all pressed against the glass.
Begging me to reach forward, take a look.
And in my grasp, the pain begins again.

A satin pillowcase pressed against his brow.
Mutters, whispers, buzzing loud in her ear.
"Please darling," he begs, "Set my mind at ease."
They dance down the hall, blood soaking the rug.
She picks up the knife, stabs into the wall.
"Why won't it ******* stick? Just ******* stick."
He tumbles backwards, both alarmed and aroused.
She looks forward, a gleam punctures her eye.
Step, step, step, she approaches his body.
Slowly, steadily, he crawls from her grip.
And the scene resets, they entwine and dance.

Each and every year, a million moments.
Offered by time, accepted gracefully.
Burned kindling, look the children in their eyes.
Accept not a truce, but a compromise.  
Ladle the broth, quench your thirst thankfully.
Fall in line, work, sleep, repeat in sequence.
Remember, forget, live, softly demise.
Mad men always hold onto life's surprise.

Perhaps it makes me a madman.
Perhaps it makes me a fool.
But I have to say darling
it's true.
I'm still in love with you.

There is a certain warmth in the winter.
Born within the four walls that we call home.
Despite the frost enveloped window-pane,
I find a flush blushed up against my cheeks.
A grin spies itself upon our marble faces,
love encroaches itself within the gloom.

A snow globe surrounded by ink.
A freshly lit candlestick's heavenly glow.
A mother and father slowly swaying
A gaggle of children conspire and cringe.

We have arrived at the solstice.
We have arrived at the season of cheer.
We have arrived at the moments of unity.
We have arrived, and we know no more fear.

Fugue state among Pompeii's fumes
I have prayed to the glory!
Blessed Mary speak my name.
Holocaust, plummet below.
Blood in the ash, burnt and built.

To find your love to find your life
first you must hold the lock and key.
Your mind may grow nettled and grey.
The shadows may make it mundane.
Yet at the heart the dreams remain.
In the alley it's all the same.
So go now, be joyful and lame.
Let the velvet touch guide the way.

Wait in rest for the bramble's branch.
Idly stir while scar tissue forms.
Get on your knees and pray for light.
Hold your hands to the sunlight's warmth.

May your dreams inspire envy.
May your worries drown with joy.
May your love warm the daylight's gaze.
May your future withstand the rain.

Stain the shadows with your spit.
Romp and roll around the mud.
Dance with Devils in the mist.
Sing your song, and spittle blood.

Burn a bush with inky smoke.
Lift your love and then elope.
Calm the crowd, breathing slowly.
Break your bones on the pavement.

I wish I could hear the whisper of the wind.
I wish I could witness one last smile's smoky stain.
I wish the colors would not fade in the fall.
I wish for the peace found in your voice's call.
I wish to remember that opossum's grin.
I wish for the love to drown out the pain.

I wish for everything.
I wish for nothing at all.

Untouched, untarnished, alone with your thoughts.
Symmetrical whispers tickle your ear.
"Tell me, what makes you the way that you are?"
"Tell me, do you mean anything at all?"
You're in agony when the clock strikes twelve.

You cannot remember how you came here.
You see your face reflected off the wall.
And yet, is it you? Perhaps, perhaps not.
A dangerous cold aches into the walls.
You look to your left, the wallpaper peels.
You look to your right, and are licked with flame.

You're wrapped up in the billows of it all.
You taste the chocolate pouring from the mug.
You hide from the stares, peering through the glass.
The covers a fortress around your face.
The air grows stale, then warm, then sweltering.
You whip it away and embrace the ink.

The ash of a putrid cigarette's smoke
stained the air, yellowed pockmarks upon its flesh.

A home kept warm by cancer and rats,
their sighs a chorus within the rafters.

An unloved daughter silently brushed her hair.
Do you ever wonder, was she here or there?

In a world so vast, it's painfully small.
There is no peace when the cycle carries on.

The ebb and flow of de-

Enough. We're merely wasting your time
Return to bed. Soon enough the sun shall rise.

At the volcano's sill sits a stone.
Etched in its surface is your name.
I take it in my hand, down to the woods.
With a sigh I begin to dig.
Blood flecks my fingertips grinding the dirt.
Yet I continue, deeper still, waist deep now.
With mounds of dirt surrounding me,
my sweat soaked body has reached its goal.
I take the stone, I place it down gently.
It is bathed in mud of my blood and my sweat.
I emerge from the hole, and release my breath.
I take the soil and push it in, burying the stone.
It is compacted with my mud, hidden from the surface.
Nobody shall know it, but there forever it shall sit,
and I will know, and now you will too.

The moon speaks cautiously through my window.
Whispered promises caress my blind eyes.
I wish I could hold the silk-spun hand.
I wish I was still afraid to die.
Farewell, I'll see you on the other side.

Never speak of this again.
You must not whisper of our love.
Do not smile at my grin.
Hear my name and walk along.

Some things were not meant to be.

Still, I find the urge to say,
I love you. I always shall.
I'll say goodbye if it's true.

I will always see your eyes,
when mine are closed to the light.
Your passions will carry on.
This home will always be yours.

Please, cherish the life we lived.
Please, do not forget my name.

Wherever you are.
Whatever you are doing.
Please, just be okay.

He lived his life and he wasted away.
Holding bitterly onto the mundane.
A pockmarked soul disgraced his fetid brain.
An ash-filled urn slowly drove him insane.
He stifled his voice for a rainy day.

When the time arrived, the sunset of life.
He greeted God coldly. He asked for his wife.
A panic struck his bones, his knees buckled
A single tear shed down that silver beard.
For he realized, he was weary, grey, and alone.

The ink of these letters soak through parchment
leaving stains on the maple underneath.
You look down at them on a later day,
and wonder what it was you'd thought to say.

I find my words getting lost in the mildew.
Expressions lost, is my sadness valid?
Surely not, my life is filled with beauty.
But I cannot strike down this dull devil.
Watching, waiting for the cracks to appear.
I wonder, will he ever leave my side?
Or is this marriage til death does us part?
Til death. I wonder how fast that clock ticks.
Like a heartbeat or perhaps a race horse.
Perhaps the time draws near or further still.
I do not know, I am merely a pawn,
and I know that this game is not quite done.

Bitter though the pain may bite.
The devil's chord shan't strike true.
As long as there's me and you.

Find your peace at rock bottom.
Embrace the moments so blue.
One day you'll know what to do.

Stand up, walk away, and sing
While you bid your love adieu.
Then, you shall be happy too.

Fingerprints stained by juniper berries,
smirking at such a small slice of heaven.
Home rests within that toddler's gentle tease.

You ran so far, so wide, looking for this.
Such silly sins counted down from seven,
and end as started, with a gentle kiss.

I did not believe the shadows could sing.
Echoing cries, oblivion pressed to my lips.
A swing into ink, a shot of the past.
Cuts pressed against the veins, scars start to form.
I wander now, where no static remains.

Imagine my surprise when my eyes spied
you staring from over the garden wall.
Blinking so gently, your doll at your side,
your freckles glowing, I counted them all.
A minute held forever in my mind.
The first and last moment had of this kind.

You ran away, a shadow of a ghost.
I sat and pondered. Were you in my head?
I glanced back and forth, from pillar to post,
but you turned to ash, the moment was dead.
So I turned and slumped, tired and annoyed.
Years later your eyes still pierce into my void.

I am the man behind a marble mask.
You are a muse, you are my final task.

Contrive a little chalk line in the sand.
Swing your hips, dance idly to Satan's tune.
Let the amethyst drip through cloudy shores.
Strike iron, strike gold, and find a new land.
Let the child rest on warm days in June.
And your lover's arrow shall quiver soon.
Or perhaps get even, and nothing more.
The sun may show her your deepest secrets,
but the moon draws out the warmth from within.

The world offers unforgiving solace.
Sanctuary from sin, blood for a price.
Sunrise, sunset, cycles, begin and end.
Try as you might, love as you might,
nevertheless, cobwebs strike once again.
A life lived alone, a moment crashed down.
Solitary comfort, bitter regrets.
Life begins, and life will end once again.
An apathy's painful strike at the heart.

Speak to me sweet child of summer rain.
I urge you, step forward and lend your hand.
I promise nothing but to ease the pain.
Unconditional love with no demand.

Silence pierced across your mundane plane.
You grasp the straw of melancholy truth.
Tonight, a secret reborn in the rain.
No end in the consumption of your youth.

We simply strive for an echo of blue.
A desert filled with the dead's sifting songs.
I cannot help but think of tastes of you.
Darkened moments harken the sin along.

Nevertheless, I embrace the twilight
as god guides me to the ink laden night.

I do not want the cold moon in my hands.
I do not give a **** about the ice
in your veins.

I want rubies pressed taut against my throat.
Gagged by their sheen, looking down the barrel
of your gun.

Do not waste your love on this shattered soul
I am nothing more than a bitter old
pile of flesh.

At my core I am but a sad, strange man.
I should be placed gently in a gutter
left to die.

Oh how I wish you'd know what these words mean.
Nestled in stone, laced with lilacs, but yet
they wear down in time a buzz nondescript.

The gaze haunts my dreams a face smug and cold.
Terror and cold sweats marked by morning light.
I hate him but still, he won't disappear,
and neither will I, and so I abide.

How do you find the crystal in the coal?
How do you love a child freshly scorned?
How do you shake the demons from your brain?
How do you stop the rot from the mundane?

With love, hands in hands, and a peace of mind.
With trust, implicit in your eyes and mine.
With words, spoken soft dispelling the flames.
With time, patience, eyes opened in the rain.

I'd offer my soul for one more moment.
One more heart warmed of nothing at all.
One more evening drive until the sunrise.
One more piece of peace in each other's arms.
One more memory made for tomorrow's hope.
I'd offer my soul for one more moment.

I learned of the blade's dull chill on my wrist.
It differed from before, but red is red.
I wonder when perhaps, when will I purge.

I call the buckle's mark my hickey.
But you and I both know the kiss it holds.
I just need to lose a little more weight.

Sob from the **** sticky with stolen saps.
Look her in the eye and scrape off your skin.
Weep for yesterday, descend, and collapse.
A taste, a sampling, a whisper of sin.

Dull the blade, dipped in blood, entrenched in rust.
Swept away, hold the memories in your arms.
Wash away the pain, and remain focused.
Know no ill will, treasure love, do no harm.

Wait. Moments, hours, days, months. You must wait.
The lavender light will return poor child.
Clutch your promises,  and do not fixate.
Soon you shall see your pains have been exiled.

Please, do not forget the life that you lived.
Please, do not forget, you'll be forgiven.

Our love grows stronger, we are not star-crossed.
I hold on tightly, I hold on dearly.
My grip is ultimate, this I promise.  
Flesh and bone, night and day, still I stand firm.

I cannot, will not give up on my wife.
I cannot, will not give up on our life.
Though simple I may be, this fact I know.
I love you yesterday and tomorrow.
Our lights may fade, the stars may grow dim,
in spite of it, our outlook is not grim.

There is a draft by the front room windows.
It makes your old bones hollow and weary.
It drags the dust bunnies out from the shadows.
It makes all the lost memories start to subtly ache.
What a power this little wind holds in its hands.
A sign from god perhaps, perhaps a little flurry.
All I know is I hope it comes and I hope it goes.
Rip through my arm and cut from within.
This little breeze uncovers our sins.
It dances in the moonlight and runs to the sun.
It whispers her name and starts to make fun.
It rips open the drawers and sharpens the knives.
It pulls at the sails with all of its might.
It wishes well and calls me its friend.
It dangles what I covet off a string and then
I know that it has to say the words to this song.
All along it was nothing but a ghost.
It ripped out my brain cells and tore at my chest.
It offers up peace and yet it still stabs.
Over and over and over and over again.
Oh lord does it still stab.
Until finally with an oily rag the window is sealed.
Finally the draft is gone, and finally we can heal.

I wail to the wind, "tread softly,come home."
As a martyr's prayers remain unanswered.
Chemical imbalance writing a tome.
and all the vicars burn the Hansards

A whip cracks idly, the flames lick the tongue.
Hands warm and wring, and Satan has his sin.
Bitterly encroached, subjecting the young.
We taste their demons, we pull from within.

Believe in the sanctity of people.
Let the ***** hold tightly to your hand.
Do not forget the sins scarred in your skin.
But do not let them guide you from the light.
Wear them proudly, march down your beaten trail.
Allow yourself to shed that opossum's grin.
To weep is to feel. To feel is to love.
Love makes us human.
Love makes us kind.

Reality rings a rust-filled bell,
chiming for a mass unspent.
A dress and suit tied at the waist.
A bond never escaping the pits of hell.

A hermit dies alone, pining for what never was.
A widow dies alone, pining for what was lost.
I miss you, I do, and always shall.
This is life, this is the past, this is the future.
So now, I bid you farewell.

I collect suicide attempts
like stamps in a scrapbook.
I taste asphalt and burning
tar.

Chained to a bed
the door swings closed
again. again. again.

I scream for more weight.
I scream to end it all.
Why do I do this?

I don't feel afraid anymore.
I can taste the soft grey.
Brother Billy, let me come
home.

Mother, Father, Sisters,
hold my sin in your heart.

I want to wake up with your hands on my scars,
your eyes smoldering their way into my skin.
I want you to slash at my chest,
and let the blood pour onto yours.

I want to ******* die with the wind in my hair
an echo of a song sung once by you
'Weep 'Weep cries the little boy sweeping,
and so too do I as I carry on in the inky blue.

I can feel my skull through the socket of my eyes
How curious it is this skin and bone.
Tell me the secrets of the life you have known.
Or leave my ashes in the memory of your dust.

Take a look at the stars in the sky.
Count them once, then twice more.
Do you see the infinite possibilities?
Can you count the endless skyways?
The numerous wonders within its depths?
Look down as the sand meets the sea,
Can you see the shifting shapes swirl?
Can you count them? Find a start and end?
Perhaps you can, perhaps you cannot but know,
it pales towards the love I have for you.

At nineteen I sat in a stark white room.
Made my home among fellow lunatics.
I carved in the pages of a notebook.
I offered up the luckiest number.
I took hold of seven and made it mine.
Seven years I offered to find my peace.
Seven cycles around a dying star.
If my soul still felt bitter and alone,
then fate would grace my own hands once again.
Finally, the blood would pour into porcelain.

But despite it all, fear strikes at my heart.
I have hit twenty-six, I feel weary.
So, I beg to the void one final time.
I am weak, I am alone, I am scared.
I softly scream, please hear this cry for help.
I may be selfish, I may be unkind,
but please, show me the light I cannot find.

Cover my arms in your chalk lines
don't take my life away
whisper in my ear
call me a victim spit in my eye,
but I swear to god I will not die.
I'm a stubborn *******
and I'll pin my hopes in the clouds
whisper in my ear
but please just don't be too loud.