When I ask her what she’s doing, she breaks character to smile and say, “I’m learning how to be like mummy, fierce and loyal, strong and beautiful in a way that people respect.”
“I want to be Queen of the jungle.”
A man should show strength
Power in his veins like burning live wires
Crackled intensity inside his gaze
Spiralling up the rod of steel in his spine
But
There are tears in my ducts
Caught in the velvet pink like jewels
They gleam
Betraying me
My spine wilts
Metal melting in the firestorm
Of my flaming heart
That burns
Like some eternal torch
Stronger than my manliness
More powerful than my might
It wrecks me weak from the inside out
Machismo
Dirt in my boots
Ink on my hands and a bike
Thrum
Humming between my legs
Bad boy
Sinner
Future criminal
But I have love on the brain
And stars in my eyes my father pulled
From the sky just for me
I have words on my tongue
That gather like pearls
And when I speak
It’s in jeweled prose
Are my gems precious enough for you?
Even with mud on my face and iron in my blood.
I may be a rebel, but I’m one with a cause.
And that cause is you.
I have an insatiable appetite for destruction
An incurable need for a simple view
To fracture like a kaleidoscope
Into so much colour
So many shapes
Until what once was
Is now so much more
Pretty boy
They all want you
The girls with dips and curves
For hand holds
The thin young things with
Eager lips
All the women see a man
Tall, dark, and handsome
With an edge
Drawn in ink on his skin
And they want you
Pretty boy
You collect them all
The reds, the blondes
And the mahogany haired
Like notches on your belt
But the one girl who sees
The chemistry of your plastic smile
And the depth of your hollow gaze
The one girl who sees more than just
A pretty boy
You keep her far away
I may be mute
Because I do not have the words
To express the depthless font of feelings
In my dark and twisted heart
But do not assume
That makes me blind as well
I was mute
In class
Silent
At parties
So quiet in my throat
It spread like a virus into my lungs
Over my skin and hair
Until it was a physical thing
Invisibility
Yet
You noticed me
And your voice
It outlined my edges
Filled in my blanks with colours
You
You noticed me
And in the beauty of that regard
I found my voice
Because I needed one to describe
The wet blue velvet in your eyes
And the thin skin where your thigh meets
Your groin that is sweet and velvet as a bruised peach
I learned
To speak with words
That could only be heard
With my lips pressed to your flesh
“I’m a storm,” you said.
“Gale force winds and pelting rains
Sudden explosions of noise and wet
So much thunder
You roar
You cannot contain me
I cannot be yours.”
But I am a storm chaser
Hurricane watcher
I don’t need to catch you to claim you
I only need to respect you to love you.
Why is there no sympathy for the devil?
He who sits in irons bound to a dark throne
In a kingdom filled with hate and loss
Stinking of brimstone
He who has the company of demons and sinners
Who rules over an endless growing domain
That echoes with wraith’s pitiful moans and wails
Why is there no sympathy for the immortal man
Who paid for the simple sin of pride
With an eternity of ruling restless souls
That will never love his own?
Definition:
A plan or purpose with an unstable structure the could be destroyed easily.
There is so much poetry in devastation
In the monumental destruction of things
Of ancient pyramids falling broken in the sands
Of grand empires fracturing into modern states
Some things break beyond compare
But there is worth to be found in the archeology
Of those ruins
Everything lost is not forgotten.
Why is it
That you hurt me so bad
And the only person I want
To comfort me
Is you?
Have you considered
That is was Dr. Frankenstein who was
The real monster?
We are the product of our circumstances.
Why is a monster a monster?
Because it doesn’t know how to retract its claws.
I am old sorrow
Ancient tears that have dried on the shore
Between the creases of each rock like sad diamonds
Barely winking in the cloud filtered light.
I am withered dreams
Empty husks dashed upon dry soil
That has yet to be tilled
A fallow moment in time
Momentarily forgotten.
I am fossilized heartbreak
Whorls of my fractured soul
Trapped in hardened fragments of soil
Compressed by time
For other people to find and study
That they might learn from my mistakes.
How can ‘what if’
Feel like a war wound
From a battle you forgot you fought
A limb you never really lost
That feels as though it’s gone
She walked by me
So many times
Without seeing me
But I saw her
So many times
Without even looking
She was etched onto my lids
Scent punctured through my nostrils
Voice looped through my head like a song
I was branded by the sight of her
While she…
She didn’t even know my name.
The greatest tragedy
Of unrequited love
Is knowing
You have an expensive gift to give
That will never be received
No matter how charmingly you wrap it
Or how often you lay it at their door
It will remain forever unopened
Unwanted
And insecure.
We are sorry to inform you that your application has been denied.
To all the girls with their heads in the clouds