Lost Words

The minutes of time got lost the pages of the…

I don’t remember what pages

The minutes I could have spent…

Doing…

Anything?

The minutes got lost the ticking of the clock

The ticking that never starts

Never stops

Until every minute is the same as the previous minute

And the next minute

The minutes got lost in the words I didn’t have the time to say

How ironic

There were so many minutes…

All blended into one continuous minute

None of them for you

Instinctively

Instinctively

As my eyes wonder on the horizon before settling on your face

I can see a whirlwind of colors

most of which have their own names but I can only identify as the basic six colors

My face turning one of these colors: red

Probably got a fancier title: scarlet? crimson?

Like I always say “I don’t know”

And most days I don’t care

But you appear out of nowhere. Literally nowhere.

Or rather so suddenly you threw my instincts out of array and now I don’t know what’s what

What I see

What I hear

Or

What I feel

Instinctively it’s the fight or flight response: there’s nothing to fight

So I flight

But my eyes don’t follow my body that’s already turning away

Because the explosion of colour is too great a masterpiece

Instinctively

I know I shouldn't be doing this

I know that

And most of the time I don’t care

But this time I do.

Because you broke the instincts that scream the cacophony of obscenities at your approach

Instinctively

As my eyes wonder on the horizon before settling on your face

I can see a whirlwind of colors

most of which signal a horribly tense situation I should have, in my better interests, avoided

My face probably shows it: fear

Probably has a real deep meaning: admiration? attraction?

Like I said “I don’t know”

And most of the days I don’t care

But this is you

And I care

I just don’t know.

Jealousy

I’m going insane.

All I see through the mirror in a stain of blood so red that my words do not even begin to penetrate

Corruption isn't a sin

The sin is in the spreading of the mistaken

The infinite scars and lashes burn through my mind as I doubt myself over and over

I hear the screaming emitting out of my own course throat

It’s a disease; A plague that spreads without the discrimination of gender, race, age, or class

I’m going insane.

The same beat pounding on the tender black skull that rests upon my shoulder

Where neither left nor right offers any relief to the truth

The darkness residing on the other side in the a simple reflection

The light cannot lie

Only my eyes can create the illusion and blur a fantasy the ceases to exist

In the presence of fame, fortune and FAILURE

Success judges, too

And my eyes see

Soon the noticeable hatred spills onto the once white and crystal clear glass

The mirror does not distort my image

I simply preserve my thoughts it as cruel

Uncontrollably hurting the innocent without the slightest hesitation

The ride spins me till I sick to the bone

But just like an addiction, I always come back for the rush of adrenaline

I’m going insane

The image on the other side of my out-stretched fingertips has me crying in fear and misunderstanding

The hollow soul that haunts my relentless nightmares

Till I BREAKDOWN

From the lack of sleep

Not guilt.

The absence of disgrace shatters my perfect perception of humanity

I’m seriously going crazy at the thought of how naive my actions were

The reflection shining cannot keep the smirk flashing onto my face contained

I’m going insane.

Little Pieces

While roaming the evergreen road,

I left little pieces of myself

All around

The blades of grass I have come across that unknowingly cut me

And make me bleed drops of blood, in my head, only I see

And sometimes, I can’t ever find those little pieces

No matter how many rocks I turn

And sometimes those pieces are returned to me different

Singed, dampened, torn, beyond the point of return

And sometimes the fractions falling out of me are so small

I paid no attention and gave them no concern

Until the hole was too wide to be filled.

I tried not to leave

Pieces of me

Behind

On the edges of the green blades

Under weightless rays of light beaming into eyes

From the burning yellow sun

Already too small to see

Those pieces of me

And all that means is that you’ll never know me

Until I confront the eternal green

And absorb those microscopic pieces back into me.

Door

Close by tick-tock

The distance remains the same as the sound

tick-tock

rings throughout the empty rooms that have

no windows

So the shower of pitch black soot covers the complexion of the blurry doors

He heard

Tick-tock

echoing off the bear walls filled with a dark essence he can hardly recognize as the

ashes that remained long after the flames were no longer lit

when time made no effort to preserve the scene

the grandfather clock still stands in the same position

unable to break free or break rules

only singing

Tick-Tock

Reminding the forgotten

seconds continue without

an audience

 the chant is repeated

in the form of

TICK-TOCK

Moonlit Frenzy of the Dead

Tonight the dead rise above the ground to haunt

And remember by whom they have been wronged

Only briefly glancing, before turning away

The darkness foreshadows the terrors heading my way

The white blank faces appear with the frequency

Of blinking away sand from my eyes

But the grains continuously graze the surface

Till the crimson drops of flesh are too common to dismiss

The pain, a momentary distraction, away the see-through dead

But neither patience nor conscience have I for those thinking

They themselves the only one misjudged, slandered, subject to trauma

And waiting in queue to tell a melodrama

“The car finally hulled to a stop

And for a long moment I couldn’t see…

The blood spattered into my face

And the liquid was too thick for me smear away.

My son was along for the ride

Screaming for mercy and for me

The bones broken from inside his tender body

Sticking out in places, striking his organs

The airbag blew out too far

Chocking and suffocating the innocent.

Till the gagging sounds

Stopped

The window shattered inward

Striking into one unsuspecting victim

Awoken from soft easy slumber

Into the living nightmare of pain

Five days

It took five days for people to find us

I

Watched him die.”

The faint whispers of words I must strain to hear

Scream for attention

But my reach does not extend that far

Or rather into that side of the steel bars

Passively shielding my stained-red eyes

I cannot sleep nor stay awake

The witnesses line in a line endlessly it seems

Till the mob consumes my conscious sanity and my dream

The Rise and Fall of

The waves wash softly

Onto the shore of the unspoken and

UNKNOWN

Carrying droplets to form a world

Of sweeping motion

Burying my heart alone

As the waves crash onto the beaches relentlessly

The secrets contained in the salty abyss

UNKNOWN

The sea has always terrified me

When the harmless pails of water splash onto my tear-craved face

Carrying lost words from places

UNKNOWN

The thought of being one of far too many sun-dried grains of sand

Makes me weep in sadness

The sea sees through my secrets

My fear of being forgotten

Wavering upon the edge of moments

The water takes no notice of my tears

Plopping with the ocean tides

And leaving only ripples

As my voice mixes into the

UNKNOWN

Recipe for Peach Pie

Half a teaspoon of pity for the peaches separated from the others

Another tablespoon of sadness for the wheat stripped of colour

Two dashes of regret for the lemons grown and lived sour

A sprinkle of hope for the yummy taste to de determined within the hour

The five teaspoons of sugar to make the heart all better

And just to be sure…

A few walnuts to harden the sympathy for the soon-to-be eaten

So the feeling of remorse can easily be beaten

One more pinch of cinnamon to spice up the day

And a bit of salt to melt the coldness away.

Half a bite of joy for the boys and girls baking it

And eating it

A bigger bite for the children

Who fight and bicker over it

An hour to make peaches into pie

An hour to devour peaches made into pie

An hour to savour the peaches devoured in the pie.

The Road

White

Dashed

Lines

Lead into the endless possibilities

Of endless adventures

And endless discoveries

Of self and world

The long awaited trip back

Is met with easily solved arguments

Into much needed laughter

To peel away the stress

Layered onto of one another

From the tedious days of fighting for more

But the

White Dashed Lines

Turn into

White Solid Lines

Still signifying my fragile boundaries

Of fragile promises

And fragile rules

For me to follow and you to expect

Scared

Soft murmurs have quietly exploded into the air

Fireworks illuminating the cold winters

Of my worry

And FRIGHT

Gossip seems to travel faster than the speed of light

Never stopping to catch a breathe

Just dimming

Slowly

Painless anxiety chases down my dreams

Hammer and anvil are dropped down

From the heavens

Turning nightmares into reality

Who’s heard what?

When the story becomes a legend

And truth is swept

Over an ocean of whispers

The nails that hold my floating bubble

Catching the sparks from the brightly lit sky

Confuses me

And makes me doubt my reasons

If everyone believes the rumor

Does that version become reality?

And no one needs

To hear me

Hiding Behind

Soft murmurs have quietly exploded into the air around my body
Fireworks illuminating the bitter frost of the cold winter
When I worry and fear my own complexion
PARALYZED passion

The nails that hold my floating bubbly fantasy
Catch the sparks from the cloudy sky
Doubts my rash decision of avoidance as a falling raindrop
PARALYZED passion

The reckless excuses for painting a void conversation
When I have important people and more important things
Flash through my conscience evicting no guilt
I'm paralyzed with raging passion
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I should talk to him, right?

"PARALYZED passion"

I shouldn't tell him about my feelings though.
He'll hate me.

"PARALYZED passion"

I would do just about anything if I could find the answer to my affection.
Or at least stop the tugging on my heart every time I see him.
He doesn't know I exist.

I'm paralyzed with a blind passion
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Painless anxiety chases down my dreams in the icy mornings
Trying to avoid the certain glance I always make
Since the emotions cannot be accepted and the hints are not acceptable
PARALYZED passion

Anxiety

A fallen anxiety
tries to reach the bottom of that pitch black
HOLE!
Only to be bounced back by the waves of
warning signs that convince it to
RESURFACE
So it can be reconsidered for any other emotional branding
other than
Unwanted
Because the feelings influence more than
the brain, that is eternally logical, is
Screaming to throw away the pieces of doubt

But just a trace of anxiety is enough to haunt
My SLEEP
And break into my restless being...

Past Words

Ghosts of past memories
Haunt my thoughts of day
Leave me restless at night
With delusions of words I could speak to make you stay

The rewind button is constantly
Being pressed in my head
Leave me broken with my choices
The wishes alternative paths I should have walked and words I left unsaid

Dimming by every passing second
My once powerful ray of light
Is now searching in a lifeless cave
For any glimmer of hope to break up the darkness that clouded my sight

Misleading, confusing, baffled and lost
Thoughts of you hurt my disarrayed heart
Until the need to run becomes overwhelming
Trapped in my own soul replaying the times before our romance of glass shattered apart

Small Things in Life

It's strange how much pleasure unexplained pleasure I get.
It's complicated how the joy overflows and suddenly jumping along with a sappy cartoon theme song doesn't seem stupid anymore.
It's intriguing how the smile magically appears on my face and soon I'm laughing without knowing why.
It's unusual the way my eyes light up and the sun is mysteriously able to penetrate the barrier of the curtains to brighten the room now.
It's astonishing when I find the perfect piece to connect my broken puzzle and I want to tell everyone on my street.
It's mind-blowing when the smallest things give me so much happiness
Makes me think insignificant the insignificant things really do make a difference
In my life

I

A small raindrop
Unnoticed by the busy people on the old streets with things to do and places to be
As a car splashes her into a puddle on a lawn
Not even the grass accepts her as she gradually blends in

A puddle of water
The citizens of a restless city hurry to attend meetings on time and find a faster way home
Since home is their relaxation
But she has no where to go as she is pushed around in the puddle
And an abundance of high heels and leather shoes carelessly step on her

They don't see the beauty water
Nor the power that one droplet possesses

She is only another easily conquered obstacle as the puddle gradually over flows onto the pavement
More people avoid her and walk elsewhere
She is only delaying them from catching the bus on time
No one sees that one droplet
No one cares

She cannot help but wonder why she has to be so insignificant
Why her single voice cannot draw the attention of a society that always has better things to do

And even when she's apart of a larger necessity
Everyone starts avoiding her like a rampant disease
Afraid
To get wet

No one ever knew how shallow the water really was.

She is Strong

She bears the labor of being homeless with a child due in the cold winters of December
A season of giving
her baby is not a blessing of new life
Instead her curse of poverty weighs down on her like never before
Too heavy to stand Crushing any hope of a better tomorrow
The cries of the newborn will be accompanied by her own salty tears the refuse to stop
No one to lean on
As snow falls and the world turns just the same
There will be nobody to witness this women
And her will to survive

Non-Reflective Mirror

Fragrant rose petals
Delicately drifting snowflakes
Dying the pure untainted water
Until a sea of scarlet
Cold beyond winter nights
Inviting with beauty of no comparison
As frost glazes over
Has become a crimson glass pond

Naturally

Seedlings must root where the wind blows

Nearby from a light breeze

Or

Miles away after a thunderstorm

Fate decides the path they travel

The mesmerizing dance of colourful lights

The flames that take prisoner

Or

The temptation of the spark

Illuminates the cold night

The water of the stream that drips into the sea

Floating ripples of forgotten

Or

Sweet union of home

Movement forever carefree

A Trapped

A game of sinister irony
For I was played a fool
To be the only one who knew not of the reality
And made to act a role too cruel

If I were the queen of spades
The he a wild cared of a joker
If I a helpless, newborn child
He, my manipulative murderer

I may not feel, still I am not corrupt
The sanity of the days are too quick to escape
I, the hunter
You, the bullet

I meant not to damn another to such fate
But alas, I was outplayed
By you, who knows not of mercy
Who has my will shattered beyond repair
And my freedom locked in an unbreakable cage

Now I must do what any trapped must

With no hope of winning
Yet I must play on

Maybe the chains will wear away when the game has been played

Elusion of Happiness - A Sonnet

My eyes unconsciously follow
Without reason or even a thought
Suddenly my throat's dry and it's hard to swallow
I'm frozen, glazing afar from my spot
Your laughing with your friends is musical
That longing I have to just hear every day
Like the sound blocks out anything rational
There's no escape from this feeling or running away
I've tried to be confident but the anticipation
Attempted to speak yet no words could form
Afraid? Scared? Worried of rejection?
A tornado of mixed emotion; an endless storm
      Everyone says love is a beautiful thing
      No one spoke of the pain it would be causing