Wednesday, February 10, 2016

Rotting Behind My Eyes

I talk to the walls
hoping they will answer
in their usual low husky growl.

But today I fear
I am losing my mind,
more than what has already ran away.

The walls reply in snarls,
spitting spiders out of non existent holes
who stampede towards me showcasing depraved grins.

The rotten molding wakes from a timeless sleep
forming white rows of chattering teeth
and warn me it’s time to leave.

When I reach for the doorknob it melts in my hand, burning my skin.
I blink, realizing I am looking for something that was never there.
The scars disappear, the door disappears, I disappear.

Those faded rose patterns and white chipped paint
don’t want me to leave, nor do the nurses,
as they tighten the restraints on my wrists and ankles
keeping me locked inside the confines of my psyche, my own personal hell.

Wednesday, January 27, 2016

Burnt Beyond Repair

The flames flicker for awhile
growing only a little
until the embers grab hold 
of the battered lace curtains.

The wind picks up 
sending a light drizzle in through the open window.
The fire panics,
spreading chaotically 
as it runs from the rain

But with the next breeze
the blaze is fueled,
strong, angry, vengeful, 
swallowing my soul
turning it to ash.

Tuesday, January 26, 2016

Don't Toy with Me

Dear Mr. Can You See Me,
I beg you 
please treat me 
like I am your old rag doll 
missing her left eye. 

Let me be the conductor 
of your old wooden train set,
I promise not to stray 
to far off the tracks. 

Dear Mr. Can You See Me,
Don't you trust me? 
to drive 
the barrel of monkeys and forgotten teddy to safety? 

I trusted you 
but you left me on the highest shelf 
gathering dust,
because your love strayed 
and I am not pretty enough. 

The Nude Zoo

I want to touch you. 
Graze your naked porcelain skin,
with my rough hands. 
But that's against the rules, playing with the prey. 

I want to trace your protruding bones 
and feed you scraps of meat. 
Yet the child in your eyes 
is begging to be put down. 

But I am only then zookeeper,
not the hunter. 
Watching over you
until the monster emerges 
with chew toys and chains,
guilty pleasures dripping from his jaw. 

Tuesday, June 16, 2015

For him.

What I am 
is from who you are,
because who I am, 
is due to you.

Sunday, May 31, 2015

The Beauty of Water

Water does amazing things for the mind, body and, soul.

I float undisturbed in the water,
fully exposed.
From my wispy mermaid hair to my pruned toes. 
First in the womb
and now the age of a wiser soul. 

The water engulfs me,
but I let it
yank me down
and bring me home. 

Thursday, September 19, 2013

A little graveyard girl

Just been working on it for a couple of days, not sure if I like the rhymes or not... 

The marble girls spy
while they whisper and lie
perched atop mausoleums.

Shadows coax ghosts 
from up top rusted posts
waiting for snickering voices.

While the graveyard mists 
and abnormal wisps
penetrate my skin.

The cries and the creeping
my heart stops, so does the weeping
and I fall beneath with the bones.