Mordial33

Your name etched in sorrow, Crimson lines upon my heart, Your words in bloody furrows, They tear my soul apart. A million poems I wrote for you Torn notes and tears remain. Cold and distant this is true With a million reasons, I must explain: A million reasons (I wish you’d stayed)     All excuses for me to break A million reasons (Each one a blade)     They burrow into my veins A million reasons (I blame myself)     You were always just a fake A million reasons (Mistakes I made)     I long to throw off your chains. A million pieces is all I am, I’m the man of glass no more, I was never truly worth a damn, A million shards

One kiss you give me, and thus, end my day; Though I am sad, my smile is bright. With your hand in mine, while the night turns gray, The world becomes warm and all is now right. How reluctant I am to turn away, To leave you lonesome beneath the starlight; One kiss you give me, and thus, end my day, And once more, softly, to wish me good night.

'Pon Love, An Esoteric Obium How oft dost thou lookest to thine heart? Thy love beest beauty, 'tis beauteous art, A beacon of light in lovers' dark, Her name on thy lips in the silence, stark; Thy love beest beauty, a beauteous art. How oft hast thou lookest to thine hand? 'Tis red-tinged in color: a rose-stung hand, Thy blood on the ground doth stain the sand, A crimson verge from a rose-stung hand, Thy love beest beauty, an art unplanned. The Rub'i of Vows Forlorn The maiden clad in shrouded shades of sorrow sung To Fate of her yearning while the chapel bells rung, I swear by these sweet musings my love, 'pon my word: A song of sweet s

Indeed he saw that breeze of midsummer’s bloom, That budding flower released in the light, Drenched in blood, inlaid in its tomb, Wilting now, no chance to fight. And those few words he struggled to say, And those last tears he could never escape, They fell to the ground as his life bled away, Falling away and staining his cape. And the autumnal leaves have fallen again, Covering the ground but never erasing The memory of these ill-fated men; Only the majesty of their struggle, embracing. Indeed he saw that breeze of midsummer’s bloom, Fighting still through his final days, Indeed, he embraced the certain doom; He captured it i

Euthanasia (Broken Trees) I am made of broken trees, Of Autumn’s death-laden leaves, A patchwork of spruce and pine, Giving way to the humid breeze, Strangled by the vines Of hopeless dreams, I am the thoughts left behind, Memories left to freeze. I am made of broken trees, Rotten and rancid, still I bleed. I look to the ravens, things malign, Such evil creatures they seem to be, Their dark ways I can’t define, Too much darkness left in me, In life’s last days, in fear, sublime, I succumb to my disease. I am made of broken trees, My heart, my joy, I long for these I dreamt a dream, a thought only mine, One false hope as I

For countless years, I fought the fight, I struggled hard into the night, But then I found the battle’s end Where blood runs fast and gashes mend, Where love surrounds and feeds the soul No longer bearing war-torn toil. I found the peace that I would seek When pressures sought to deem me weak, I found the light in everything And feel myself remembering That I was meant for more than this There is a reason I exist. And just like that, they fell away, Those who callus, cleave, decay, Those whose will was not for me To live in freedom happily, I felt them leave like shedding clothes And free of them, I quickly rose Above the turmoil, la

Such gentle colors drip across your freckled shoulder blades. A quilt of puddled watercolors soaked in auburn shades. Spun of golden rivulets and rinsed in autumn skies, So many endless currents swimming through your lonesome eyes. Brushing under fingertips and over shattered songs, Unraveling like morning glaze against my paling palms. With beauty like October hills and hollow as the skies, The water drops against the earth will be our lullaby.

i. i never knew i wouldn't be, couldn't see the entropy. i spun out a galaxy from half-light. here it does metastasize blinking afar. ii. dark star, you inked a pathway from cancer to canis minor. south by south west without a breath to spare. fangs bared, danger to the old wounds. like a god, thankful. iii. it is thorsday and you're working until 3:15am. first you rub your weary eyelids, then the blinking begins. iv. i couldn't trace your gaze, it wove between starshine and booze, through bottles and sheer tops. where did your eager eyes rest? which chest of drawers stained your irises; i remember when they were clear. v. i always knew i

He felt winter in the thin black ice that skimmed over ponds and caught in the rattle of bare trees. It was cold and clean and sharp, and reminded him of the Christmas Eve he hid in the root cellar among the pine boughs and turnips to count snowflakes and dream of the end of the world.

I close my eyes to ignore the heat The porch is a dock toward a wide, white sea. the starling has forgotten me Breath becomes smoke caught on glazed ever-greens. the sun-dog howls, it seems to know Silence hangs soft in the street-lamp glow how I have abandoned my birthright of snow.

We walked across the wooden world, we heard it creak and moan. We walked for ten years and a day, before we could get home. We walked upon the wooden streams and felt them warp and bend. They went down to a wooden sea, that seemed to have no end. The wooden clouds sailed overhead, blue clouds that held no rain. But woe to those who were below, when they burst into flame. I sleep and dream of wooden days-- how short they were, how long! I wake and on my tongue I feel a splinter of their song.

I wouldve' given you galaxies If I had those inside me (You thought that I did, so) when you tugged at my tears I gave up Over and over I tore out chunks of myself, And you devoured them all like a ravenous creature with cut-diamond eyes, hollow, cavernous, empty transparent claws like ghost's split me open and stars came out I was screaming, you never stopped. swallowed me whole and now I am empty Left broken bones on the dirt But still, you're wild bitterness and the ache of a trembling autumn, You were not filled