the silence between the seconds

deserted

Sometimes relief

Comes slow

Or not at all

And those are long

Thirsty

Days.

 

Looking at the mirage

Of hope.

 

So

goes

hours

Of dragging

Through sand,

Time lapses

Slower

Than

Starts                        that

Don’t go.

shadow puppets

Attempting to preserve a glimmer of joy,

Youthful innocence’s blessed to succumb to wizened depths – 

            Days spent watching

            Change.

We play in the shadows

Until we outgrow them.

 

Caught growing in menacing strings

Feeling for wall

Stretched tall, up against shadows

Toeing sunlight

Fighting against the inevitable tomorrow.

 

 

 

 

Don’t give up hope.

It’s all part of the game.

Hello?

She picked up the phone and heard her conscience gasp

At the chance of her listening to what’s wrong.

float on

I got a good view of the warning signs,

Those flash flood signals that tell of times when preservation’s thrown against jagged rock’s end.

I see what’s coming like

Raging rapids white with flustering rage.

This waterz not gonna bathe

Me clean.

 

It’s gonna bring pain Life springs onto

Eroded defenses.

 

At least this time

I can see it coming.

 

I can’t decide if I should

Fight to keep standing

            (Even if for moments),

If that means I’ll be taken over by stronger currents of

Passion.

 

Or if I should

Take the fall

Gracefully.

Surrender to

The gravity

Of my condition.

 

 

Doesn’t matter though.

 

Either way I’m gonna end up face up with my prayers finding a better day.

With water in my lungs

And broken glass on my tongue

I will

Float

On.

sorting

Somebody told me once,

about a girl who faded away.

 

Sorting through hr box of knives,

Sharpened by daylight.

Dusty with dark corners’ secrets;

 

She likes jagged edge against hr soft underside.

 

Tempted to run along the sharp side;

cut skin with thin lines of fine

steel.

 

 

 

It feels good

To do what she shouldn’t.

It feels good

To give in to temptation.

 

 

 

She sees something dark in hr reflection

Upon the blades –  

                  There they are lined up pointing back at hr,

                  Begging for some flesh.

yup.

It’s a sweet sense of satisfaction when I can breathe

easy

And still be

Holding your hand.

peace [ outro ]

sleepless.

 

Shadows shrink into another day.

The possibility of light,

That first ray of tomorrow.

I catch it on the daily.

 

Eyes aching

Joints breaking.

Every waking breath is just another direction the pain can grow.

 

There’s a world of chaos inside this temple.

I tried to be gentle with Life

But pride got in the way.

 

I’m ready to let go and confess

If only someone could give me peace,

A moment of rest.

 

I’ll give you guilt,

Just give me quiet.

Absolution, please!

Sometimes

Those things strip my vocals down

And leave me with nothing but raw sound;

The moans of a night well spent.

I try to censor myself

But I’m not aware of everything that pleases me.

 

Excuse me,

I can’t help myself.

It seems like yesterday

That I saw you pondering the sweets you’d enjoy.

I saw you

Eye me over,

Like a beast deprived of joy.

 

Enjoy

My wet flesh.

I’ve been told it’s smooth.

It’ll go down like a sanctified groove

 

That 4/4 meter that keeps me in line

Is not here tonight.

 

 

 

So,

Let’s get nasty.

And lose

The beat.

inspiration

I am paused until you come to press play,

like a well thought out museum display.

Will you be able to look and not touch?

 

Fearing the repercussions of impulsive actions,

Dare to try.

Reach out and feel this fleshy classic,

As if designed by a master

Artisan.

 

Run the tips of your fingers across painted lips,

Smooth

Like honey,

Heavy with hand.

Dripping with delicate stories told only by strokes,

Bristles stiff with delight

Having found the perfect subject to

Immortalize.

 

Cover me wet with color,

Kisses upon my canvassed skin.

Let loose your imagination

Upon my body.

 

Let me be your muse.

hold on