stuck

There is a tension in waiting

for a blow that never comes;

Your body, crumbled to posturing

perched upon your splintered throne.

 

There are eyes tired of searching,

yet unable to close for rest;

There are lungs squeezed shallow from filtering

the quietest possible breaths.

 

There is loss multiplied by loss

in the fight to never be knocked down again;

There are waves that will never drown you, yet

you cannot ever risk submerging for a swim.

 

There is knowledge of inky black

which no one can pretend not to see;

There are stains of morbid red

where your heart rips open (every other beat.)

 

There is an exquisite agony

in never feeling home;

It does damage, it curries questions

that should never be asked.

 

You cannot learn to thrive and love

when your alertness

your caution

your awareness

when your panic will never relax

We-death

I lose my breath for the ways we wept

Carving our chains from the sorrows we claim

I curse my hands as they build my plans

The coffin sized for me that I lovingly heed

Each step towards my death I shriek as I grin

I cannot stop mourning even as I descend

Why do we not cease all this clamor and doubt?

I know what will save me but I grieve anyhow

We built our own tomb-traps but we gild them and stay!

filling the rooms with silver decay

Floating our corpses in gold-blood and gloom

We’re certain this death will not be the last

We’ve died so many times in the past

Nostalgic Prayer

Someday I’ll look back and be astounded
Someday I’ll reminisce and be amazed
at all the ways my life has changed;
tears shed for deaths we all regret —
friendships, friends, desires… dead.

Someday I’ll wonder just what happened
Where all the sunlit years have gone
My heartbeat then will go to sleep
my words will breathe no more.

I long for absolution from the starrer of the skies
the one who galaxied creation
and all the colors in your eyes.

Let my skin cease to glow
the day my colors fade.
and otherwise my spirit grow
in love and mercy night and day.