Suffering through...

The apocalypse I bade not to come
came anyway,
seems the strength of the root is known only through upheaval

Embrace the tornado

When the winds breath rapid hell fire,
the
eye
inside
looks openly upon itself

War is only
a measure of man's mortal memory.
There is nothing real to forget.

put the razer to my throat
I am offering you this chance to release me...

attempting to reach out ( Read more... )

dancing with mr. thin ( Read more... )

it's thin on the mirror ( Read more... )

He
draws water from the deep place in the center of her chest
says/tells her he'll say a prayer for her protection
so when the drought comes, she won't be so thirsty...

fairytale alive in her eyes until morning
while beside him she lays through the darkness
until closing her hope on the dawn
the magpie is crying at the windowsill
and waits to be let inside.

she lifted a drop of magpie blood
and slipped it under his tongue while he was sleeping,
to give him his song
now he's flying
and selling sublime fictions as victories
She will wait by the hearth until dawn
chained to her hope like a stone
offering words to the fire
as he wanders off...

getting the magic of the magpie back...

Counting the selves we
lie
beside
morning
enumerating each shade.