Astigmatism

I replaced my glasses,

Scratched and irksome,

With contact lenses.

The trouble is

They shift and blur the pages,

Making it hard to read.

With this I am reminded

That when focused on the shallow faces,

The words they speak are lost.

Sidewinder

I am not certain,

But I think perhaps,

There is something wrong.

On the inside,

Where I'm alone with echos.

Looking back,

At my Universal footprint;

My tracks are misshapen,

Staggering,

And winding.

Tracing back, and forth,

Past Saturn, and Ireland, and

Twenty years from now...

I see myself, the Sidewinder,

Lost...

And alone.

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.