The Chill of MeltingThe loving hands which shaped these feathersbade me fight the fire and forsake the water,find the space between.Then those hands released me from our cage,and from my mind all was gone.The empty openness of the skywas the same as that of my mind.Curiosity flew to me on her silver wingsand, landing on my back,bade me soar.She flew into my throat and sat in my heartwarming her iced hands at the fire of my freedom.She bade the flames burn brighter,for her hair was tangled with frost,her eyes had become crystals of ice,and snow now flowed through her veins.She sang to me a song of winter,and in the spring sunI sprung from the cold shadows.Her breaths of mist filled my wingsand chilled my blistering skin.Her icy tears streamed from my ember eyes.She gathered the cinders in her icicle fingersand cooled my burning fear.But as she sang her song,the fire bade me fall.Curiosity’s laughter screamed in my ears.As the ashes swirled like snow,I floated past the soft
LabyrinthDarkness will, in this maze,scream in the ears of wanderers.Darkness will, in this labyrinth,crawl into the hearts of men.Darkness will, in this endless hall,silence escaping words and drag the rain from eyes of children.Darkness will, in this prison,prevail.
ColorlessFeel openness around you,lending its strength to the worn woodbending beneath youand holding you up.The trees clutch you close to their chests,comforting your unseeing eyes.In the quiet around youblooms the silent flower,your own breathing the only thing to soundalongside the avian lullabiessinging the sun to cool slumber.Swallow the birds’ calls,keeping the chill of the night from your skin.Hear the trees’ heartbeat,beating a rhythm for your own.Breathe in the silencepooling about you.Because when you’re aloneyour empty eyes can see.
Red LeatherMy eyes kissed the tough wagon,“I’m afraid I’ve surprised you” said the wheel,as red leather rocks took the shock and flew.They flew twice as high as the wall,flew past the stars and grew into the moon,as the clouds sang, loud proud and true.The frog sat inside the mailbox,as someone pushed a pile of post,the wide face swung forward and bit.Paper bruised and cut its poor throat,so our little frog melted to soft mudand snow fell on the hot tarmac.Wavering heat feasts on bones,bones disowned by the scrap dogs.Children mutter proverbs in silence,their eyes lamps of sugar and spiceand as the gasping earth drinks its tea,lambs die and no one hears their cries.
Away From HomeChantel walked along the boring, grey hallway like she did everyday on the way to group therapy. Walking down those halls really reminded her how much she hated the color grey. The walls were grey, the ceiling was grey, the furniture was grey, the sky outside was often grey; the color grey seemed to be a pandemic and, the first point of infection was the building she now lived in. She was an inpatient at a sanitorium surrounded by bucolic fields, trees and, as Chantel had figured when she arrived, nothing else. Thinking about the surrounding countryside reminded her of how she had been dropped at Mountainview Sanitorium by her untenably furious parents just a week ago. However, it seemed like years since she was sitting in the leather back seat of the family Volkswagen, duffel bag at her feet. The door to group therapy and the face of her friend Claire woke her from her reverie.“Dude, lets go! Doc is gonna kill us if we’re late again,” Claire smiled as she remembered
Dear Universe,Can you tell 16 year old me that I'm 20 now and I made it out alive. She won't know what you're talking about, but at least she'll know it's possible.
What do you believe in?Do you believe in God .I do. If you dont believe in God believe in yourself and love. Love can heal many wounds. Do you believe in hell. To me it is a state of mind but evil does exist . Do you believe in heaven. I do. We all shine on like the beautiful stars . The question is what did you do with your life?Did you make a difference to someone. Money cant buy love but love can move mountains. Do you have faith in anything. Have faith in the power within your heart. Do you have hope? Hope for peace. Hope for a better world. I am a dreamer but I am unique. Think life is short friends . I i will live it each moment every second with awe and love. Love is the most powerful weapon use it with wisdom. Love with a honest heart and courage. Peace brothers and sisters. We are all a human family.
WeakSatan preys on the weakest of us.He plagues the minds of the broken.We who are torn in twoThat is who he plunges his fangs into.
Playing love, playing meWe'll smoke, drinking silenceSmiling gently, being nobodiesHere's to you and me,Here's to this partyPick a song, play me a lifePlay me softly, without empty liesDon't pretend, don't tell me noLet me down gently, let me down slowWe smoke, cigarettes extraordinaireWe drink some whiskey, maybe wineWe get too close and then get someWe play some music, we get some funI hold my breath, swallowing smokeYou're playing my body, playing that songNight is never endingNight is never oldWe get togetherGetting some loveMixing it with alcoholAdding a little bloodBut don't you stopPlay me all night longAnd as long as you're playingNothing can go wrong
I Tried, DammitYou werethe right piecefor an old puzzleand I broke youtrying to fit youin a new one.My knuckles are bleedingand I'm screamingat the top of mybattered lungsbut you're hemophobicand too deaf to hear me.
Sometimes Dead Girls Forget What Stars Look LikeThose nights insomnia catches up to me,I imagine what the sky must look like and I count the starsand I think, maybe they don't shine for us.Maybe their glow is their way of crying "notice me,I'm important and I can do good."Perhaps they're searching for meaning in their life,just the way we use them to search for our home across the oceanand for a new worldand for something other than dead sea.Maybe they're afraid of burning outjust like I'm afraid of burning down bridges and friendshipsand maybe they think they're not good enoughthat they could have been better,that they could have been a sun or a planetbut they missed their opportunity.I wonder if the stars live in cliques,or if those constellations are their family members,and I wonder if they ever get into fights with their parentsor run away from homeor write about it?I bet the stars live like us,but what would I know?I'm just a dead girl from the grave,and I haven't seen a star in decades.
Let me Go.I scrub and claw,and the water runs clearbut the blood on my handsis red as ever,it beats and pulseslike the blood in my veins.Turning my back,I'm giving up.I'm returning to my haven,not so safe,not so sound,where I scream.