The ice cold glass, all torn right through
So close to shattering and crashing in
Reflecting a broken and beautiful you
Shaping and showing all sorts of sin
A heated glance, all feverish at first
Tears you down and berates your heart
Seems so tame, so far from your worst
But it rips right in and rends you apart
Your eyes, they glimmer and rove the glass
Scornful and doubtful and shameful, as well
Praying this hell will verily pass
And the terror, the tears remain in their shell
The very worst judge, and jury, too
Is no more than a mirror, none other than you

Everything you want, handed to you
But nothing you need is here

They'll give you the stars, the moon, all the planets.
but you can't have the Earth, you can always die of thirst.

your picture glowed
in this dark place
not a light to be
seen
except
your glowing
portrait

Who, am I.
I am then
For what I should be
Could be
Would be
Now, not before,
If I ever was.
When now is near, not far,
And why is I,
Too many times ago.
But always I am thee,
Me and we in past tense
For tomorrow is merely
An hourglass.

Blanche
Perched high upon a gaudy throne
In her faded dream kingdom
Where everything is soft
And glimmers and glows
Where brutal reality is hidden
By soft colors, the colors of jasmine
And butterfly wings
Her singing
Weary and strained
Like a dying star
Turning the trick
She dons such deliberate disguises
White satin, a paper lantern
Oh Blanche
Purely corrupted
Lighting ****** candles
To hide the stains
And with wide-eyed laughter,
Uttering naivetés
Dropping virginal lies like pearls from a necklace
Clinging to hope
To unheard prayers, unseen supplications
Her restless eyes
Begging for mercy
And wandering aimlessly
Through rainy afternoons in New Orleans
Her lips whisper a battle cry
I don't want realism. I want magic
I tell what ought to be the truth
Truth is sin
Verity and naked bulbs be ******