Eternal

I do not have a gentle heart.
My heart is overlapping silver scales;
Protected and rarely exposed.

My love, oh my love;
It is fierce and harsh.
My love is the barren desert when it leaves;
The scorned shall howl with thirst for my love.

My love is sharp, and damaging,
A fiery whirlwind designed to blacken lovers to the bone.
But my love, ah my love...
It is eternal.
When my flesh has gone, and my soul shifts from the realm of mortality,
I will love you still.

My heart is armored,
My love is pain,
My icy stare will steal the breath from your lungs;
Regretting...

But until and ever after the world of men crumbles to ash;
Not even a memory for the cosmos to recall...
I will love you still.

Life

Sometimes, when I lay on my bed,
Clad in only boxer shorts and spider silk -
Breast and bone making love to the blankets,
I think “Why couldn’t life be ever this?”

Skin

I just want out of my body. I want to take all the good in me out of here and make a new person that doesn’t feel broken and deficient.
Spiritual Regicide - To kill the King within.
The Queen is Dead - She will not breath without her King.
…and now I ask the dead Queen
“Why did you kill the King if you refuse to live for yourself and rule forever in the Sacred Palace of your skin”?
She does not answer; she will not breathe.

Time is Not Linear

I am a child.
The world is new and bright,
Filled with voices and color.
I was born a few weeks ago,
At the age of 16.
It feels like rewinding a tape;
I use those still.
Pixels on the liquid display feel cold and have no scent.
The plastic is tangible,
Like me.
I was born into this grown-up body,
And mail comes here.
Bills.
They have a name on them.
My name.
I was confused, but I've promised to work harder.
My parents treat me with respect,
And my sister is way too tall now.
I am sixteen.
I am newborn.
There is a house to clean and bills to pay.
There is a sad voice on the phone that
(I remember)
Used to call me "wife" and "sweetie".
I will turn twenty-three in two weeks.
I don't remember where I was,
But I'm going home.

You Said Your Name was Neon

You said your name was Neon.

Life isn’t ones and zeroes, hacker-boy;
I’m not binary, and I’m not logical.
I react, and you analyze.
I miss you, and you count the messages.
Come back to me, Dark Prince.
Your name was never Neon.

Tank Michael S. - Someday

You were old, for your kind,
And I’m still so young.
I had just reached full flower when my heart
Bloomed open and you nestled into the petals.
We had enough time to love one another,
But not enough.
Love, when lost, was never enough.
When we left the house,
I’m glad I told everyone to say they loved you -
Not goodbye.
Death is never goodbye.
Will I see you someday, peering out from green eyes
I’ll swear I’ve seen before?
Or will we keep each other waiting?
If your journey is done, love, I only hope you don’t mind;
I may take awhile to join you.
But I’ll be there, with you, stroking your ears again
Someday.

Untouchable

My throat feels raw;
My eyes sore and red with tears
Pain flooding out through my face
In all its sad and ugly raging.
You are gone, but not gone.
You're near me now,
But I cannot touch you.
I'll never again reach out and feel you
Warm and sleepy beside me in bed.
Never again will I hold you close;
Our hearts reaching out and entwining in the smallest of gaps
Between our breastbones.
I remember though,
How you lifted your head to look into my eyes -
Yours were deep green, and so tired.
When we sat in the hospital,
Hoping for good news,
There was a baby - squalling loudly in his mother's arms.
He looked just like you.
He was small and frail, newly born,
And you,
Small and frail, soon to close your eyes for all time.
I'm crying now, and fighting not to cry.
I cannot touch you,
But you are here.