Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Scorpius Sep 2018
I watch him
Emerge,
Over days,
With cracks
And tears,
His new skin
Cranky
And thin.
And I recognize
An old fear
Shimmer through
One iris
Then the next.
And I see him
See me
Watching and waiting,
And I wonder
How many chances
We’ll get.
Scorpius Sep 2018
My fingers
Drift
Around curves
Along edges
Across swaths
I’ll never forget.
I lean in
Hesitant
And hopeful
Just one breath
With my cheek
To your back,
Fingers still
Busy
With recall.
And your flesh
In my lungs
In my brain
Smells
Of wreckless abandon,
And the me
I miss
In the mirror.
You feel
Me reach
And the spot
Where you stopped
Is only warm
For a moment
Once
I’m
Alone.
Scorpius Aug 2018
She knows
How it sounds,
Her defenses,
Her script.
She gets
Where to giggle,
Where to look away.
And some days,
She longs for freedom-
For mangled lines,
And empty faces,
And shredded costumes.
But today,
She greets
Her applause
And retreats
Into darkness.
Scorpius Aug 2018
“I don’t...”
She blinks,
“I don’t.”
And suddenly,
She doesn’t.
She scrambles,
Face blank,
Body still,
For something
Known.
She reaches
Into the dark,
Her hand
Probing
For something
To clutch
And reaching
Too far,
She topples.
“I didn’t,”
She says,
“Know what the end
Could feel like”
Scorpius Aug 2018
She gasps
And clutches
Her chest
Just above, between
*******,
And her face
Splits.
Giggles,
Rippling
From core
To tips,
Bursting
Open
And through,
To yelps,
Bubbling
Rises and Falls,
Pushing
Through breath,
To wheezes
Marked
With squeaking
Pleas.
They remember
This later
When she
Is angry
And mean.
Scorpius Aug 2018
I watch
The words
Dance
Full grown,
Well mannered
From your lips,
And the threads
They call
To existence
Weave
Perfectly
Together
A start,
An arc,
A seamless
Resolution
Where worlds
Spin
With sense.
And I am
Lonely
Shrouded
In your tapestry
Clinging to my ******
Beneath.
Scorpius Aug 2018
I see
Your fear
So clearly,
Dripping from
Tips to type,
Like the sweat
From atop
Your snarl.
I hear
Your taps
Brand it
As virtue,
Justice,
As humor,
Or sense,
But your labels
Peel and curl
At edges,
And I
Recognize
The fearful
Bits
Beneath.
"Shhh, love,"
I want to say,
Reaching out,
"No more."
But my hand
Still stings,
So today -
I block the comments.
Next page