Sunday, February 27, 2011

Quick Death

That moment
Slipped like rain down my skin
Washed me in late February change
Mangled more than just my hair

And you, were standing there
Such an odd thing
Like I had plucked you from a dream
And planted you here in front of me
There was no script for that scene
Line, please
Line, please
LINE, PLEASE!

I had to check— more than once— the pace of my heart
To ensure it would not speed out of my chest
Like a reckless teenager
One who crashes cars 
And left these scars upon me

I needed desperately to make the moment real
Needed some proof of it 
Something to feel so I could be sure
But I was too afraid to pause 
Too afraid the claws of it would rip me apart

So when it cornered me
With clenched teeth, I waited timidly
But that moment simply passed
Like a long breath,
A quick death

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Ash

Uncensored emotion runs wildly through me
Lights me on fire from the inside

I burn quietly in this house alone
Beg like a child for the walls to swallow me up
To roll me like a river
So I can drown instead of quiver in this newfound nothingness

I can't seem to keep the truth down
Each time I digest a new piece of it
My weak stomach gets the best of me

Heartache and his wretched, wicked thievery
Takes most of the familiar scenery
Like pictures from walls
Steals all but these memories

That taunt and haunt me
I burn quietly like a smoldering fire
I have but one aching desire—
to be ash.

Monday, February 7, 2011

Breath of a Dragon

The breath of a dragon
Is the kind of thing you do not believe in
Until it is breathing down your neck
In that moment
I was quite sure of what the fire meant
Still I could not turn to face it

I ran
Over, under and almost through
But monsters have a way of catching up to you
And just before I woke from it all
The floor began to fall
The nightmare marched on like unanswered call

Scolding spit and a roar from its pit
I sat again at the start of this
Racing heart and bloody too
I bled from the very thought of you
And thought till there was nothing left

And death
Is the kind of thing you do not believe in
Until it is breathing down your neck