Category: Poetry
Late at night, when it’s just me and the moon.Kin
You were already dead to me.
But, I couldn’t stop my heart,
when yours did.
I’m Broken
By the ocean,
before the night.
I broke, from missing you.
Tainted Blood
A lonely peer, a doorway.
Most still lay asleep.
Strangers, cloaked as lovers.
Lineup…for the rabbit hole.
Their smiles, fake, and you know it.
Will, did not lead them here.
All they want is to shower in that devil’s medicine.
Melt and run away.
How can you hold their hand?
Allow their laughter, their play,
to fill an ego until you trick them.
With a lie like the blood is clean.
Past Eight
Whistles silent,
brews stress pinched to the nape.
TV flickers black and white but can’t turn it off.
Frozen mittens dry from the blessed heat,
brings sweat with no one to blame.
Mumbles first, like there’s someone to fight back.
Then, the knee goes,
not worry, just wonder.
Past eight…
…old lady’s not home.
Forgotten Notes
Let me sing to you, my daughter,
so I may make the strings of your heart,
play music that’s in between.
The Red Road
I walked a path less travelled,
on a road covered in red.
Evergreens bowed before me,
to welcome back an old soul.
Draped, lonely…in silence.
A still that became my only friend.
There, my worries were sheltered,
protected by a forgotten trail.
That journey became ritual,
to protect me from blended reality.
I ran as soon as the sun would let me,
far away from the stranger who looked just like me.
That Song
I remember that song.
Every note just for me.
Sweet melody,
aimed straight toward my heart.
Our souls in tandem with the music.
I’d bathe in the cast of your light.
You with that grin.
I’m there sometimes,
when I go back,
for a listen…just for me.
Lonely Heart
It barely even beats.
Doesn’t matter though, now.
Given this heart…
only to stare at strangers,
thinking that for a life’s blink,
that stranger could have been you.
I tired of being wrong.
No One Cares About Superman
I’ve saved the day… so many
with a cape that’s now tattered and torn
bullets are starting to pierce me
with an ego that is badly worn
I do not wear any more disguises
for there’s no glory I ever sought to claim
people still pass on by me
and take no notice of this hero’s pain
go on and send up your beacon
these wounds are barely healed
from the kryptonite of being forgotten
a power that strongly wields
no one cares about Superman
does he hurt, bleed, or even cry
only, until one day needs saving
and he no longer wants to fly
Earth To Ash 