Red Rose

This red rose may have its thorns

But I reach to pick it anyways

For I know that in the end

It will be more than worth it. 

Never Fall That Far Again

A whispering gust of verses encircle my ears as your lips somberly dance to the rhythm.  I watch as the darkness drips from your mouth, just as blood leaks from a closing wound. Your eyes wander hastily to catch a glimmer of sunlight, only to halt as it is kisses the lifeless concrete that lie beneath your feet.

Your mouth begins to dance again, “This ground I see,

This ground supports my flesh,

        my burdens,

      my faith.

It keeps me afloat in my sea of woe.

Thru it, I can never fall that far again.”

A Requiem

You bleed waning passion.

We watch it escape every crevasse,

Every pour,

Every crack in your flesh.

You grow hope in your garden of denial.

We watch them bloom into their demise,

As you have no water to sanctify them.

You sleep with cozening shadows.

We watch your every breathe;

With every inhale you let in your demons,

With every exhale you sink deeper in your quietus.

You smile with fear beneath your teeth.

We watch you force every grin,

As you lean to kiss your fear instead of me.

You shuffle off this mortal coil.

We watch you flee with a bullet,

As you give up the ghost and set your soul to eternal rest.

You lay on the lamenting floor.

We stare in dismay at your lifeless body,

I mutter your requiem,

As it shares a melody with the silence.

In My Mind

In the mind of the normal:

A razor is meant to shave with.

A bottle of pills is meant to be stored up high.

A bridge is meant to be walked across.

A bathtub full of water is meant to be jumped into.

A full plate is meant to be eaten.

A passing train in meant to be waved at.

A rope is meant to hold a piñata.

In the mind of the empty:

A razor is meant to numb the pain.

A bottle of pills is meant to be swallowed.

A bridge is meant to be jumped off of.

A bathtub full of water is meant to hold a breathless body.

A full plate is meant to be thrown away.

A passing train in meant to be walked in front of.

A rope is meant to become a noose.

In the mind of the artist:

A razor is meant to intrigue.

A bottle of pills is meant to numb the mind.

A bridge is meant to be over water.

A bathtub full of water is meant to be still.

A full plate is meant to be overwhelming.

A passing train in meant to be lit up.

A rope is meant to hold up my hope.

I sulk. I sit. I wait.

I sulk. I sit. I wait.

For a day without pain, without regret, without  fear.

For the day when I am no longer isolated within in my own mind.

For that day when my war has been won.

I sulk. I sit. I wait. 

I hope to one day greet this day, for my bleeding heart yearns for this reunion.

The day has still yet to show, and my strength is growing thin.

I sulk. I sit. I wait.

This hope I still hold looks an awful lot like fear. 

                                        When will this day come?

For it looks like that day to never come.

I sulk. I sit. I wait.

For I realize that day is not too far away. 

Oh, Precious Pain

Oh, precious pain,

How you force me down with your everlasting chain.

How I never cease to try to escape your grasp in vain.

How I find your allure ironically addictive;  ‘tis only you I hope to gain.

Oh, precious pain,
How you are surely my bane.

How you will forever be my biggest blood-red stain.

How you are the cause for my lesser hope, ‘tis now on the wane.

How you have surely driven me insane.

Oh, precious pain,

How I beseech you to rid me from my mortal duties, do not refrain.

Just promptly carry me to His anodyne domain.

Oh, precious pain.

That Feeling...

That feeling of wanting despite not needing;

That feeling of endless, agonizing pain despite efforts to heal;

That feeling of pure emptiness despite being physically whole;

That feeling of loneliness despite being surrounded by others;

That feeling  of shame despite no one knowing what you’ve done to yourself;

That feeling of hopelessness despite knowing it will get better;

That feeling of weakness despite the eternal  determination;

That feeling of uncertainty despite knowing exactly what’s wrong;

That feeling that's illogically logical. 

Bleeding

Tears rain down, staining my shirt a crimson red.

Like a waterfall of agony, it drowns me.

I lay silently, suffering in my bed.

The tears won’t clot, I’m lost in my ruby sea.

Each burgundy tear slides down my pale frame,

Causing my skins subtle twitching.

Hope

I grasp it tight, never letting go

The rain may loosen my grip, but the sun will come soon enough

Here, hold on with me

It Gets Brighter

Reaching out, arm extended
I open the up curtain.
The light temporarily blinds me as I turn away.

But I look back and see all that lay outside in the sun.

Unwanted Hope

Through the darkness I search for a flicker.

In the distance, I see a faint sliver of light.

I turn around.