You stand there, glorious,
like a Goddess of Destruction,
hair flowing around your porcelain face,
a moat of blood pooling at the shattered feet of your castle,
the gleam of victory in your shallow gaze
--and what have you won?

Metallic barriers rise and fall about you,
close about the corpses of those
unlucky souls
ill-fated enough to have had your favor for any short amount of time
--and I have to ask myself,
Are you really satisfied?

Are you content, in your solitude,
to have nothing to fear save the
(inevitable)
collapse of your own formidable defenses?

Once you said to me that you were glad to have loved,
to have felt as deeply as the darkest depths of the ocean,
to have felt
at all.
Once you said to me that you regretted nothing.

And now I behold you there,
beautiful and broken,
withdrawn from this world
--untouchable,

Unattainable--

and I have to wonder,
Was it really worth having loved at all?

I hate

how everything painful is magnified by like...a million now. What is going on with me?!

Reading back on old poems brings surges of emotions that I'm not accustomed to having just over reading something I've written...

Uhg. Even writing is a painful experience as of late...

Such shit.

L.

Black,
your face is hidden
in the shadow of a promise,
too strong to keep,
too feeble to survive the fall
from your whispering lips,
too eager to be free.
I feel your breath coming in gasps
and heaves
as I lay my head
against your chest.
It permeates my very being,
swallows me whole,
consumes...devours:
I will lay here forever,
if that is what you require
to be well again.

...

the original version of this was much longer, but i can't bring myself to post the rest. maybe one day, after some editing and revising, i'll put it up. also, for some reason i did not date this when I wrote it, but I'm guessing it was some time near the end of 2008.

Learning Curve

I'm sitting here, and I'm watching you slip slowly through my fingers as though every little piece of you were a tiny grain of sand, and I've been holding on too tightly. That old '80s song has been playing in my head:

"Just Hold On Loosely, but don't let go
If you cling to tightly,
you're gonna lose control"

Over and over. I think I'm learning something.

half-baked

sun-drenched,

you are
half
a world away from me.

what
is that sound?

(shrieking,
wailing,
tearing)

take
it away from me.

i
never said i
wanted
this pain.

Rocky Road Thirties

No,
I won’t be your
thirty-five-year-old
regret,
drowning in
rocky road and old
black and white movies.
I won’t be your
stay-at-home-mom
swimming in
old jogging suits and
age-old tennis shoes.
I won’t be your
one-stop-shop
for years and years of
lost chances
and broken-hearted goodbyes
to lost dreams, selves, and
what-could-have-been’s.
No,
I won’t be yours
at all.