Ruptured nimbus
The stem between us
Vinyl flowers bloom

Held betwixt
On fragile wrist
The onyx petal looms

Yet in its shade
Damp promenade
My fragile spirit swoons

On dewy petals
Eroma meddles
Soft as a infant plume

With scent of roses
Love imposes
The petrified perfume

Here in shelter
I swear I felt her
But I could not presume

Ruptured nimbus
Scent of roses
The rain subsides now
As it closes



The Last Thing

The beauty in the last thing we see
Is that it is our own, always
Just as everything before it
Which had ever caught our eye

Each scar and attributed tear
Let them never heal, let them never dry
Each memory and agony
Never let them fade, never question why


Cure for Hatred

There is no cure for hatred
Not through offense
Given or taken
Put up or torn down
Tears can’t wash beneath the skin
Nor can burns heal the same
The sickness in the branches
Can’t be trimmed by the mere leaves
Setting fire to the sickly crops
Still leaves the field aflame

This is how hatred works
It takes what you have
And what you need
Rots it
Burns it
And hungrily breathes in a final breath
A dark cloud of hearts and minds
Cooked to perfection in stolen hellfire
The last thing hatred feels
Is it’s own extinguishing
But not before it consumes and destroys
Everything else



I see the future so ideal
But it’s divided from the real
All the spending and saving
No joy or misbehaving

Placing the cards
For a game of dice
I imagine a life
Which I’ve grown to need
But when I look to the faces
I see them, and hers, but not me

I crave fast moments filled with fire
Yet I hoard funds with letdowns
In the coffin of desire
Burying the dead
As if they would wake

Yet these yet-to-be dreams
Fall apart at the seams
For it could all end in fire and silence
In three minutes
Not thirty years

So the life that I’m seeing
Is fleeting
And fading
From the life of a being
Born into beating and breaking
Robbing and raping
Torn up and fractured
Between fleeing and taking
I don’t have 30 years
For a future that’s faking
So I’ll set those dreams ablaze
Settling for escaping



Everything I knew and more
Dropped her feet
My head down and domestic
Having run for miles and days
Through bramble and tempest

I found the best there was
And carried it back
Lips dried and torn
Yet tight around my gift for you
A snarl of determination
My only companion
In your absence

Yet, as my hard work met the floor
Your eyes didn’t meet mine
But my alms did
The lashes and bashes sting my neck
Not sure what will crack first
My body, my mind, or my heart


Once Bright

Moths lingering to the light
Swatted one by one
Ashen spirals
Flaking filament
Stirring corpses
So slight and soundless as they fall
Like spinning maple seeds

Like letters of longing
Put to page
Left far too close to the flame
The ashes crawl across my mind
Orange passion, blacked memories
And pure white wings falling away

Desire of mine
Lives not through the night
My love for you once a swarm
Now only hushed walls
And will-less husks
Within an ashen tomb