HolyDay

St. Nicholas Blood Red, sleigh night comes. Heart beating fast. St. Nicholas Blood Red, hand squeezing, slimy with joy.

New Year...

It's December. December. I can't figure out December. It's happiness. It's joy. It's the jolliest of all. It's sad to be away from loved ones. It's sad to be separate. The times of December signify the anxiety of the unknown to come.

Trip...

Tempest raging in an open sea. Flutter in my heart. Wind blowing across an infinite plain. Feelings flowing in a forever-electric pulse. Coursing through me every second. Carrying along the sadness of loss as a hitchhiker.

Moving on...

Great depth, simple solution. You stand there deciding the outcome, yet you're already moving ahead. It's not hard to decipher then what you will decide. After all the moments we spent together, you are ready to move ahead. Yet I remain in the now. I find hope in the moments we spent together, but you only see reasons to move ahead.

Coffee break...

The low growl of the gas fireplace murmurs like a undertone to the cool indoor air of the bookstore. She's lazily flipping the pages of the magazine, catching a glimpse of this week's instant classic movie. Slowly building inside is the structure of the final doom. The rickety hollow full of blank-happy pictures of the things she failed to have. Her thoughts wander back to the earlier scene. A happy resolution to a one-time unending torture. She happily fingers the weapon, warm against her girly things.

Love Is Red...

Moving effortlessly, closer and closer. The great tear in me opens and opens. Wider is the space between us. Going, going it feels farther away. You said you would never move beyond the ground rules. But, you broke every condition. Tore apart our delicate construct. Unfeeling monster, you'd leave me bleeding. Wasted prey.

Waiting...

In shadows she resides, a fleeting vision. In dreams do I only realize, what I feel. In Love with my desires.

A sweet voice in song is a ghostly communication. Lovely vocabulary spells what tears me apart. I miss you and I search for you.

Like silk brushing against me, her prescence is but a manifestation of a lingering want.

Or much...

In a month past changes file before me. Crazy differences dominate the landscape. I have gone back to where the coldest years have stuck to my tongue. I sometimes feel like the fleeting present is but the reflection of an old memory.

Candles by C.P Cavafy

The days that are to come, they stand before us
like to a row of lighted little candles, —
brilliant, and warm, and lively little candles.

The other days, the by-gone, lag behind,
a mournful row of candles that are quenched:
a few of them, the nearest, smoulder still,
but most are cold, and crooked, and reduced.

I dread to look on these: their shape is grievous,
and grievous the remembrance of their light.
In front, my lighted candles I behold.

I dread to turn, lest I perceive, affrighted,
how fast the sombre row is lengthening,
how fast the extinguished candles multiply.

Find at http://www.cavafy.com

Knowing.

In the daily chaos of our limited boundaries of life, the truth of the nature of our existence is hidden by shortsighted understandings.

Birthday.

My birthday passed on the 15th. It quietly went by marking the passage of time. I quietly passed, screaming wildly as a reminder of the darkening light. One less opportunity to fulfill increasingly empty desires, closer to the end. Yes, it was depressing[but I already got over it. It's like Valentine's Day, the other horrid day.].

Deliberately.

Constanly reminded of the things you want. I can't fullfil the desire you have to own me. Deliberately you wait until it feels like it's tearing. Wait what you like, I only grow somewhat insane. You like to see me like that and you keep pulling. Deliberately.

Punishment.

Deliberately painful is the whip, arching in terrible beauty. The sonic boom shatters my heart, incredibly.

Devon Rex

I cannot help but like, the Devon Rex cat, with its funny look, it seems to say to you, "What the heck are you looking at!?" Some say it looks like an elf and I think its swell.

Drowning.

Impossible to me to reach out and feel the heat of you. I dig my fingers tight around you, desperately pulling. Fighting the flow and feeling the slippery bottom. Going under and nearly sharing on your outcome. Return and help me emerge out of this dark hollow. Give me a chance to fullfil your desire, don't plunge us into this cold flowing darkness.

Inside

[Given up trying to find the fresh side of desperation. It's but an endless walk down a path of regret.]
[Gladly I come bringing your happiness. Follow me or stay, I have made up my mind. Gladly come with me or it will tear my heart.]

Tomorrow...

Tomorrow comes fast. It gains swiftly upon the slow, hungry to run them over. It's oblivious to the anxiety of its arrival. It charges ahead, rushing to do its job.

End.

I've given over to the funny declarations that the life that is expected doesn't always come to be. It's a way to allay the further manisfestation that what you want in life will never be. It's the cruel confirmation that for you it is not what you want. The heavy exhortations of those close to you serve simply to suffocate whatever internal motivation to find out your own path.

April Fool!

What did you think was going to happen? March ended and nothing changed. Don't believe the fantasies. Life is only a harsh rebuke. Suffer and shrivel! In life we bleed. April Fool!

Nuclear Everyday

The nuclear everyday has become commonplace. The radioactivity report is given by the cheerfull morning show hostess. Next is a report on the success of the underground farming efforts. Later on an interview with a young couple the latest procedures will be explained for sexual relations in the nuclear everyday.

Snow

Hidden beneath the snow, a thousand souls sleep. On any other time, a warming feeling. This day the snow only serves to blanket a thousand last gasps. On this day of darkness, mother earth served to remind us of the price hitchers owe.

March!

Tentative steps echo among the concrete slabs. March! Flowing among the days as they triple around you. Add the weight of movement as the moments flow. March! A month of uncertainty. 31 steps to March is a long space to span. Only a 1/3 of the way there.

Eden

Gravity spares no bone. Embrace me painfully Eve. She lacks a rib because Adam wanted to screw. It's a Paradise lost for innocence.

Saint Valentine's Blood Red.

Saint Valentine's blood red stream. Drowning, weighed down heart. Arrow's crimson trail betrays my steps, I stumble. Saint Valentine's blood red stream steaming. I brace as my feet falter. Stumbling blind I crumble. Saint Valentine's blood red, he finds me.

Sheets

Sleeping alone doesn't give me a chance to mess up the sheets in the proper ways. Alone I just crumple them so without much passion. It's just my single limbs jerking around without any fashion.

Time

Given time, I would steal some of the little things left in your secret places. Given time, they would be mine to squirrel away from you.

In Thirty Days.

In thirty days I've seen the world turn in places tossing around my earlier wishes in disarray. 30-days of newfound expectations trampled under feet of feral machinations. The old man's hold on the new flesh tightens.

My Space.

Laying around waiting. I fear it ended without me.
Lovely time spending, a subtle amount of cash waiting.
I didn't want to let you see me playing around the tables, admiring the other gals in waiting. Where is it going if not into my pocket, the unused rubber melting? I don't think it is making any more sense than you expected.

Gals with mikes.

Simply watching gals with mikes. A female front, it punches. Greater beauty of sound, a delicate voice thunders. Gals with mikes.

Quietly sitting as you make me regret it.

I pleaded with you to take me forever. You didn't pretend you even wanted to. Leave me, if you see fit. I would not hold it against you. It'd be quicker to slice my throat and watch me fall. It's not much of a stretch to say, Taylor Swift has nothing on these romances!

High Profile

Arcane thoughts trouble some people, but it's not a reason to strike out at them.

New Year

New Year rising, slowly moving. Coming around the curve sliding. Many new things ahead. I am dragging. New Year rising with me in tow.