Speak Out and Be Heard

The things you heard growing up stunted you. “Don’t make waves”, “Don’t argue”, “Grow up”, “Stop day dreaming”… It’s all bull. If you’re hurting, speak out. If you’re offended, respectfully tell the offender. Never lose your whimsy. Never stop dreaming. Your hopes and dreams are your motivation, your individuality, and your truest self. Be who you are; not what others tell you to be. Find people that love the real you. Don’t hide. Don’t be silent. Don’t suffer alone in the pain that’s destroying you. Make those waves - the people that really matter will use them to surf.

Garbage

Ash trays filled to the brim,

With smoke still curling into the air;

Reaching out to steal your breath.

Cans and caps litter the tables like fallen leaves,

As you trip over an empty wine bottle, you wonder...

Is this why waking up ceases to be an option,

And I sit up straight at night,

Soaked in sweat,

With things I cannot remember

Stalking through the shadows?

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.