— Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps

She sits comparing, glaring, staring
long brown hair shades ice blue eyes
Mystery surrounds her aura
Not a living soul pierces her disguise.

Mindless noise echoes in her ears
Whispers of a forgotten past
Dreaming of yesteryears never to come again
Chanting children, how long can it last?

Clambering up the stairs of hard wood
Hard metal heels hidden under loose pants
Bright lights glimmer across her ghostly face
Silence her ally; spoken words heed no chance.

From sudden spark, curtains lit ablaze
Blood red silk licked by flame
Eyes encircled by vampire shadow
The perfect demon picture frame.

Cold hands grasp the microphone
Stares of anticipation fill the empty crowd
her mouth opens, the echoes scream louder
Drawing closer to the hollow sound.

Timeless words flow from her
Erie, yet mesmerizing melody
Piercing the ears of all, pouring like hot silver
Hypnotized, tricked into jealousy.

Voice fading, she stepped back
Tears stained her perfect face
Words carrying bodies away to the flame
Dulled pain of childhood erased.

Silent once more, lights dimming
Desire for freedom she sighed
her lover ran to embrace her
And in his arms she died.

The sun was always brighter in that room,
On the right side of the house.
The mattress is laid out on the floor,
Sloping down towards the middle,
Too many nights of restless sleep,
Or no sleep at all.

I cannot understand the language
That is spoken here,
Twitching eyes, the hand flinches,
All the things they can’t say.

The vanity has had too much wear
And you know he hung his hat in the corner
As she calls him honey and I made dinner,
Watching from the inside out,
A bittersweet loneliness,
Waiting in a corner.

Raspberries
seem appropriate,
like roses
in their fragile sophistication,
more delicate than passionate.
They don’t linger,
like cards and candies,
to be thrown away
weeks later.

Wipe away my memory
I close my eyes and then I see
Haunting visions of your face
Something time will not erase
Sleepless nights- no more sweet dreams
my blissful thoughts replaced by screams
Tug-of-war amid mind and heart
ripping through my soul- tearing it apart
Feelings of pleasure yet such immense pain
These contradictions I cannot explain
Standing here without your hand to hold
The world suddenly seems so dark and cold
Crying—I try to wash away this pain
I try to forget this love, all attempts in vain
Forgive me for the times I yelled
The internal conflicts I withheld
My happiness or lack thereof
Has left me along with this love
Tears of pain and tears of sorrow
a dying light that by tomorrow
will dawn again, sun risen feelings
Reopen wounds, preventing healing
Raw, tattered, broken heart
You reached inside me and tore it apart
and though the hurting and heartache may wane
Visibly, on my heart, a scar will remain
but a part of me doesn’t want the love to fade
so I reopen these wounds-my well-being betrayed

Stuck between being a helpless child and an unfeeling adult
Lost in the decisions of which way to lean
Stuck on the idea of being the best
Lost in deciphering what that means
Stuck in the middle of mental imbalances
Lost in determining what it is you really want
Stuck constantly wondering what this life is about
Lost trying to find your place
Stuck in your thoughts, wanting to be in someone else’s
Lost in everything your thoughts seem to lead to
Stuck as you are; completely and utterly lost in this world.

The Moon cast a silvery luminescence on the mist,
which had settled into the harbor,
and drifted in furtive gusts toward the town.

A town;
whose square was not trodden on,
bar’s glasses remained unfilled,
and locked doors
greeted a gliding figure.
A lone girl stepped lightly on the harbor’s creaking planks,
enjoying the stillness of the night.
She did not notice the faces in the windows,
as her barely silhouetted against the full moon,
peeking through the abodes’ lace curtains—
Some only to be pulled back by a shaking hand
and a looming shadow.

The girl knew that behind the lace curtains,
and far from the children’s rooms,
hushed voices spoke of her and her misdeeds.
As they had for nearly fifty years-
never humane enough to take a breath
and slow down their productivity
of tormenting her already injured soul.
She smiled at the thought of her loved one’s face
and frowned when she thought of what could have been.
Even the fish seemed to be still that night as she peered over
into the unstirred water where many people
laid untouched and forgotten.

Her translucent fingers skimmed over the familiar surface
as she glanced idly at the town,
and shifted the heavy weight in her pocket.
The town’s deathly silence was broken by a
familiar shot in that night
and a splash that never came
before the town sank back into silence
and the darkness of their own shadows.

I search for you in the midst of the forest
In the deepest realm of the trees where the light faeries struggles to
find,
Where moon rats dwell
And the white rabbit scurries,
But you are not there.
I follow your scent to the bottom of the ocean
Where the spitting hydra sings,
But I cannot find you.
I walk along the rumbling streets,
Where the assaulting cars cause my ears to bleed.
But there, in a small park surrounded by buildings,
An old woman sits on a bench in front of a fountain.
The dancers pose still and the water,
Gushing from their mouths,
Is a painting.
Not even the wind dares to stir this area.
I join the ancient on the bench,
The wooden planks creek
As if signaling for the water to begin.
And the old woman is gone.

Oh, my gallant wanton woman
You attempt to kiss the lips of those undeserving foes,
But they cast you away.
They would rather accept the leech that feeds off their very life.
But not I,
I have accepted you,
I have allowed you to kiss my lips,
To share your existence with me.
I have allowed you to wrap you silver wings around me
And hold me still,
Like a fragile kitten hugged against its masters bosom.
You protect me from your enemies
By not allowing their loud attacks to shatter my imagination.

You were too

In the lightness we tried to forget that we existed.
In the lightness we tried to forget we did not.
Your lips crept toward mine, your tongue
the tail of an overeager dog.
Naïve and unseeing
fingers walked and hands slithered.
Our lives were forgotten on stairwell in a broken-down place.

You were too easily

You were too easily erased:
Your name scrawled on my left arm,
Wavering lines of ballpoint ink,
Undulating on my skin.
All it took was a little spit,
And I rubbed your name off my wrist.

You were too easily erased.

You are too easily written.
Fresh scratches,
Wet ink,
A delible tattoo.

Lost.
Lives lost.
Money lost.
A piece of pumpkin pie lost, a Christmas gift wrapping lost, an anthem
lost, a habit lost.

Lost. And found in
every black shadow,
every overtanned face.

Her eyelids were
leaden shrouds upon her eyeballs, which grew pixilated,
but her mouth was open, an alleyway storage space yawning open, and didn’t
shut, not even to speak.