Scorched

I’m burning up inside.

These changes cauterize my soul.

I’m engulfed in your dilemmas.

Your fleeting fancies take their toll.

 

A nervous pit begins to fester

In my gut, weighted by lead.

These tales a sinking reminder,

Anchoring me to waste in bed.

 

Why is my heart so flustered,

Skipping beats and out of time?

I’m choking on my air.

I’m boiling inside a cage of rhyme.

 

Let me roast in flickering flames.

They leap and spit and sear.

You will spout out some devotion.

I will tell you what you want to hear.

 

What is this new feeling?

Anxiety hot, a blazing beacon.

Brand my body with this sign,

Let the world know how I weaken.

 

How I tremble at the thought

Of something new and unknown,

How I writhe in my own embers.

Just let me burn alone.

If We Should Part

Then what becomes of ended love?

A stale and twisted turn of fate.

A shattered frame of what it was.

Now creeping in, a taste of hate.

Where once was warmth, a chill has spread

And strangers lock accusing eyes.

Yet sweet relief with passion dead,

A shield for hearts from endless lies.

This tale was spun from wounded silk

That sagged and wept from too much weight.

An acid stain from sour milk,

A scar from caution played too late.

This is the question now to ask,

For answers lost, or never said.

To say for sure is no small task.

So let it rest, come back to bed.

 

Temptation

Tar black coats your body in inky perfection. A night like this deserves a memory that lasts. That’s what you were thinking when you took your first sip at least. Things changed after that. Swig after swig, burning liquid breathed fire down your throat and into the depths beyond. Swirling frantically, thrashing within in a violent frenzy. Keep going, your mind is coaxing you, persuasion in the form of a seductive glass bottle. All you need to be happy is that one final sip. And just one more for luck, and then one more for prosperity, and then one more because damn it feels good to be alive. The night slowly fades, moon sinking like your battered eyelashes. You were stumbling to your bed, fumbling for something to hold onto before you collapsed on the floor. I remember your smile as it slid out of tune, giddy in the approaching dimness. Tossing your head back you took that one last sip. You crumpled before my very eyes, disintegrating into darkness.

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The Black Cat Blue Sea Award

My second award nomination! A big THANK YOU to DAISY IN THE WILLOWS for nominating me for this award that I had not heard of before either! I love the title though, because I love cats (and I have two adorable ones)!

I found Daisy’s blog during the A to Z Challenge in April and continue to be impressed by her writings, her experience, her perspective, and her insight. Not only is she an engaging writer, but she talks about the subjects we really NEED to. She brings awareness to topics other people might avoid, like mental health or environmental awareness (save the animals!) and has a refreshingly honest approach as she ties in her own life. I think a big part of blogging is interacting with other bloggers and Daisy helped inspire this realization as well as boosting my confidence by giving me multiple shout-outs and words of encouragement. Definitely check out her blog!

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Losing Love (And Finding It)

 

You and I are like oil and water and we’ve been trying, trying, trying, oh, to mix it up.”

He’s singing to me on the phone again. We talk everyday and I call him a friend, but I know it feels like more. We get so close and I’m terrified. I look for an escape, any escape, and I find one. A new boy at my first job. We start to date and I assume that will make my feelings go away…

I’m drinking the ink from my pen and I’m balancing history books up on my head, but it all boils down to one quotable phrase: “If you love something, give it away.”

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Life as a Magician’s Son

Life as a Magician’s son-

Deceiving.

What secrets divide

the immortal bond

of kinship?

A single trick

bestowed upon

a simple wish.

The son-

in love

with seeking knowledge.

The Magician-

intent

with hiding truth.

The spider-web tangles

caught up

in sticky reprimand.

Life will not be cheated,

so it has all crumbled

down to bare perception

and the Grand Finale Act.

Curtains called

and the son hears his cue.

The whisper of the Magician,

“I love …”

Let Go

Your taste, like acid, burns my tongue.

Fermenting, foul, never young.

I may be older than my bones,

But not enough to hear your moans.

It’s funny how you say my name

Like it’s hypnotic, lost in Love’s game.

I know better then to believe,

Still, it’s hard not to grieve.

How many others do you seek to please?

And do they pay their hearts as fees?

I lost mine so long ago,

Before I could recognize you as a foe.

I wanted this feeling to speak the truth,

But I spoke with the naiveté of my youth.

Bitter now, too hard not to resent.

Foolish to think you were Heaven sent.

Am I also one to blame?

Am I untrue when I whisper your name?

Maybe it’s not meant to be.

Maybe you should set me free.