Requiem of a Dream

Smoke lingers in the air

The stars alight

These are the times I stop to think

What could have been if you were there

What horrors could have ceased to exist

Yet it could never be so

For you are gone for a world of tomorrow

And tonight is a requiem of a dream long past

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Rituals in the Dark

There are things I cannot help
But sleep with in the night;
Questions unanswered,
People unheard of.
I melt candles from paths the fires forged;
Oh they burn blue.

Rest my head on satin;
Threads of thorns wound my ears;
At last I can sleep soundly;
Blood trickling to my chest.
My eyes, they are revolting,
Climbing the Berlin Wall.

A lash of love drowned deep and dark
Against the hollow middle
Between the bedspread remnants mark
Water runs in between.
Soon I’ll hear hums echoing starkly,
Whispering as I leave my body.

Birthmark

On the eve of his birth, I came to caress
The mark on his chest, a somber lament
Shapeless and void of blood but etched on flesh.
Blacking by the day since the lash begun appearing
Cells too sad for procreating
To this day the charm still holds, still folds
unintentionally to his cheek to his tongue
Pulled back by the hairs he outgrew from the sun.
And the billions of stars he stole to this day
Swallowed his face with an irreparable grace
Leaving the banquet to empty suitors
With blind and unyielding tumors.

Relapse

it matters not the sirens

or the finger on the button

seeds of lazy Susan

aroused her perverted killers

a single interaction

collapsed her twists and vines

the pill and the possessor

dragged the symphonic sound

whereby all her teeth blacken

draped in rotten groves

fog cowers in the mirror light

becomes invincible in almost twilight

the pill and the possessor

her lips laced with crowns

it matters not the sirens

the finger saved her life

Pressure

We’re farther away than we thought

Nearer than we expected

Neither of us complain

We’re better misplaced but found

Streamlines cover the molds

And the fumes no longer loosen

Watered here we grow

We’re better kept and summed

With all our parts we cherish

The silent taste of doubt

We’re tending to our garden

We’re better touched and found