10/4/12 (orange/yellow/black)the air is coldbut the sun is warm.wrapped up and folded;inverted, diverted, pervertedinto, within myself.petals of yellow-orange marigoldscattered on the floorcareful steps, like walking on water.i can talk to birds,i can talk to birds.i feel the chill in my toesmy hands, my fingers, my bones.save me winter, blanket me in frosti am wandering, i am lost...cawing as they scatter,watch the crows.
9/22/12let thy sun be numblet thy boulders comelet thy moon darkenlet thy cities fall.let thy stars reminisce through cloudslet thy animals be deafeningly loudwatch for the weatherlet the fathers sigh,let the mothers weep;let the children cry in their sleep.let there only be wind and revolutionno more time, no more rhyme...let thy blood,let it turn to rustlet thy flags tatterlet thy mirrors shatterlet there be no interruption acrossthy cheery, bubbling brooklet your lashes flutterlet slumber pull you inlet the universe smotherlet thy eyes rock backinto the safe abyss of black.
9/15/12I have discovered that your presencedoes not even grace my dreams.The absence does scar methe timidness in which you touched methe gentleness in which you kissed methe loudness in which you laughedThe uncertain glimmer to your eyethat left me blind like the sun...The only thing that has not goneare the ghosts of your ball-and-chain arms.
9/11/12 (petrichoir)quiet are the smoky cloudswarm, soft, welcoming blanketscool, cold, diamond raindrops falleverything foreign, unfamiliarstreetlights, barlights, neon signsthey reflect in pools of icy waterlike a hundred blurred moonsbright and sharp the metal cutshard and bitter the concrete cradlesrain in the city;all is silent, silent but the echoand you knowany closer to Decemberit'd be snow.
i don't have a date of origin :cEro's arrowhas pierced me trueStruck me palelike Diana's moonAnd like Apollo's sunso bright, so blindingShines my heartlike Orpheus's footsteps windingYet I think clearlyof when Fates weave my duesOf Hade's clawsscratching fresh woundsDeath,like Zeus's harsh thunderShall strike mewithout longing mercyOr perhaps, eternal sleepof EndymionTo dream of divinityperhaps that is a gift.
9/4/12feel your lips on my neckclinging claws gently scrapei give you my soul to wreckaddictive is what your eyes glimmertoxic is what my skin shiverspin me back, pull me inthumbs graze the hills of hipsyou are the curious childholding the butterfly with sticky fingertips.
7/31/12hills of greenenclose your eyeswords swim intears corralledclouds are shadowsthe sky a tinted oceanwild fields;shy harmonywhat is the fruit of breath
8/22/12i want to glow in the darkto grow lunar-moth wings and flyto gallop away deer-footedsinging that the beginning is nigh.with moonlit florescent rivers of thoughtgalaxies like fossils among starry skiesi'll be the one with snowy winter kissesfull of inquiries consisting of "why??"to breathe meaning into life, where before there was nonea whistling siren exploring the blue and endless seaskeleton gentlemen with wishes of peace and bloodi'm the girl-shaped guardian holding the key.
Ruins.It was a bitter cold December twilight, and from the elevated view of a skyscraper, New York City seemed like a tangle of multicolored Christmas lights.A lone man stood, admiring the display. It was like someone had painted a picture just for him, for Anthony. Anthony Ward.He was five foot eleven, with observant gray eyes and short dirty blond hair that was cut in a stylish fashion, though he didn't really pay much attention to any of the latest trends.He wore a light blue dress shirt with a navy striped tie, a slate gray suit to wrap it all up. He believed in keeping it simple, no matter how it irritated his girlfriend, Penny, who liked it elegant and decorated.Her full name was Penny Forman, and she was a few years younger than Anthony. She had hazel eyes and long auburn hair, and was four or five inches shorter than him. They were essentially opposites, but they loved and admired each other deeply.Little did he know, he would never see his beloved Penny again.Anthony pulled a