

your passion.this is your anger; laughing while i cry.your passion.
i fight back tears and you seethe death wishes between each stuttering breath; a hymn of your shadows, weak words behind grinding teeth. this is your pain; taking it all back, how your regal head bows low, fragile power; how you wish i were dead. these are your weak words breathtaking, liquid pitch, you are rust and coal, like a charcoal heart, a goddess of smoke and grey. this is your ache; your compassion in short supply, skimming across the currents leaving shaken words and shaken breath, how you steal my hungry heart. this is my call on keen knees; bared exposed and you slide down the


whisper.he waits until she's asleep.whisper.
her hand, pressed against her chest as eyelids flicker.
he rests his head on her pillow and draws in close.
in a low,
longing voice, he whispers to her,
breathe.
she stirs, doesn't wake, but turns. hand fluttering against breast as she dreams of her heart. rich red swirling blood spirals, throbbing beats a hunger thump deep inside.
her breath, catches as she inhales, mouth parted slightly.
he leans closer, whispers to her.
swim.
she smiles into the curve of her shoulder, dreams o


Moonlight ManI did this to him I showed him dreams and then watched his eyes as they burned I held his hand and told him to jump Then let go before we hit the bottom I saw his light and his life and wanted it for myself I had a missionMoonlight Man
Leave nothing that resembles a man. He lies curled and despondent on cold bathroom tile Cursing wrong words that never should have been spoken and right words that were never heard He was an angel boy once Filled with wide-eyed innocence and white-light ambition Now he breathes in shadowed doubt and breathes out tarred disappoin
--
Learn to look at the world the way it is and see through the illusion.
--
But I often wondered just how deep I could
Sink my teeth into that crease on your arm
The place where all the good times,
They grow and grow.
--
rosin your bow, sing your scales
do your lunges
we're going
field-
dancing
--
--
rosin your bow, sing your scales
do your lunges
we're going
field-
dancing
--
But I often wondered just how deep I could
Sink my teeth into that crease on your arm
The place where all the good times,
They grow and grow.
--
Previous Page12Next Page