Letters to Myself : At Fourteen

You're more than half my age but you think you're wiser
than everyone.
What you don't know though is going to cause so much hurt.
Love deeply,
that boy in the next room, for he will be taken from you
much too quickly.
These years will become a blur before you know it, so
let go.
Be something other than what they expect, don't
be afraid.
It hurts a lot, but it's going to
get better.
Find another way to express
your pain.
They're going to lie to you; don't believe everything
you hear.
You won't even think about half of these people when
you're older.
Being cool really isn't the most important thing; just
be real.
Start saving money now; put it somewhere you can't
touch it.
Someday you're going to find yourself in another world entirely,
enjoy it.
Twenty years from now, you're going to be happy and
in love.

Absinthe

chartreuse concoction
captive in a crystal chalice

pale preparation,
a piney palliative in a pellucid phial

verdigris venom
revealing revelry in your vision

I Regret You

a voice like raw silk
eyes, pools reflecting a springtime sky
words that touch, grasp, grope

knowing you feels easy
feels true and old and sexy

conversation inspires
ignites passion
the inevitable flare burns
too hot

I regret you
not in knowing you
but in having to let you go

Not Enough

Why do you do this?

A better question is, why do I let it bother me, I think.

I know you love me. You do, don't you. Yes, you do. It's in your agonizing eyes, in your searing touch.

So why does a simple call make my tortured heart clench, my throat tight with fear and pain and aching need?

Fear.

Because I'm not good enough. I know you'll say I am. I'm not.

Afraid.

One day you'll leave, and I won't know how to live.

Is it all in my imagination? I hope so.
I pray so.

Nothing burns deeper than the flames of my doubt suspicion breeds angry flames that lick and scar my tender flesh.

Untitled

Her world harbors violence.
Pain. Fear. Lust.
Breeching the Commandments is her life.

In her world, all these things are imaginary. Figments of the overactive minds of the pleasure-starved.

Faces are just words strung together to form meaning.
It's only as real as you want it to be.
[It's only as fake as you want it to be.]

Flowers. Amethysts.
Indigo and gold make up her words.

Nothingness exists only in the minds of the nothings. They are the ones who fear it. Who claim it. Who make it their world.

Her world is passion. Lust. Love. Sex.
Her world is pleasure. Joy. Hope.
Her world is freedom. Not their freedom, but her own.

Snowed In

crisp white blanketing the ground
untouched by the foulness of mankind
pure

each falling crystal a mirror
revealing its facets upon cool glass panes

flame licks at evergreen logs
breaking the quiet with hissing and popping
warming the dark night air

nothing moves
nothing but the falling snow
my breath upon the windowpane
the flames that destroy to give life
light
warmth

Between

Between you and I there is only air.
There is only breath.

Nothing else should matter, nothing else should stand in the way. We should not seek to put these obstacles between our hearts. So why do we?

It hurts more and more each time.
I cry harder.
You hurt, and scream, and make me want to fly away.

When did it become so difficult? When did something so simple, so intrinsic to our human nature become so heart-wrenching, so painful?

Now between us there is air. There is breath.
And tears.

But even with this I still seek your arms. Your love matters to me. You matter to me. Not even the hurt, when hurt is fading, can take that away. Not even the tears can cause me not to see. I see you. I love you. Even now.

Give Me More

No.

You ask me not to read into what you say. To accept your words as what they are. To not make assumptions. But how can I not, when all you give is one word?

No.

I won't read anymore, if that's what you want. I won't read at all.

*sigh*

Every word, every sound has a meaning all its own. If you want to say something, use words. Don't leave it for me to guess what you mean. What you want.

*screams*

Even the silence, the places between words, holds meaning. Even the quiet can make my heart ache.

Tornado

Free me.
Make it stop, make it go away. Please?

I can't do it for myself. I won't. It's part of me. Intrinsic to my very nature.
But it slices deeper every time, until I'm hanging by a thread. And I'm losing my grip on even that.

I don't want to lose it. Don't want to lose that which was shared. That which I cling to so perilously. The ego, the hunger for love screams and kicks and bites. A childish tantrum. And I can't make it stop.

Won't make it stop.
Want it to stop.
Want it to stop, to leave me in peace, to quiet my soul, to let me find that one moment of calm.

Around me a tornado rages and I lose all control. Whirling, spinning, raging. Tearing everything down. Love, Hate, Pain. Nothing stands until it is gone. And then pain finds its way back faster, racing to the wreckage of my heart.

I love you. I want to not hurt you. To not hurt. But it seems impossible.
This sickness refuses to release me.

Do I have to choose?

Luna's Light

daughters of change
drink luna's magic beneath her light
dancing in a sacred circle
to the rhythm of their blood

warriors of sacred night
howling their rage like songs
diamond claws raised against the sky
like anthems of glory

Killers

This was written as a challenge, given a subject and a list of words that have to be used. It's a fun exercise, actually.

Subject: Tigers in the Jungle of India

Words:

1. Rock Salt
2. Candy Canes
3. Tomato Paste
4. Penicillin
5. Pewter


eyes glint like pewter caught in a shaft of sun
the creature hides amongst the blades of a fern

the men work nearby never seeing the great hunter
killer of men, the true king of cats

stalking, watching, ebon stripes giving camoflage
against lush fur the color of watered-down tomato paste

palm fronds like candy canes unfurling in morning's light
stir and sway as the giant moves closer to the camp

they hear the scream and come with guns drawn
leaving the cages that hold the unconscious cubs

all that is left is spilled rock salt stained with blood
the last of the supplies the victim carried

the poachers, fearful now of the striped death
open the cages and flee with their lives

Nepthys' Dreams

golden eyes lined with khol
nails tap against the glass
expectant
waiting for him to arrive

staggering through a stagnant stream
a cloud of gnats rises
a canopy above his head

she is lucky, she thinks
swathed in rich silks
every inch of it a flourish
bespeaking her honored place

serendipity, they said
when she fell upon
the necromancer's scythe

now she is his for eternity
waiting for him to arrive
to bring her the spoils
of his deadly obsession

One Word: Lavender

in lavender fields I race against time
purple blossoms sprayed around my footsteps like discolored snow
sweet aromas dazzle the senses and lull me

poppies .. no .. lavender will make them sleep

Untitled

In the recesses of mystery the voices swim
languid bodies flowing effortlessly
through a myterious fog

echoes of purpose find homes
in lovers' souls

whomsoever wishes to seek out their past
may find it hidden
wrapped within the caul of fear and pain

I cannot go where you go
nothing calls me there
and I will not tread where I am unwanted.

Playing With Haiku

~* a room of silver *~
Lambent before dawn;
In nighttime travels, I watch
A room of silver.

~* dormant tree *~
Without foliage;
A dormant tree does prevail;
Awaiting spring's return.

~* a darkness dwelt *~
A darkness dwelt here;
Alive within I saw them;
Just before dawn broke.

~* spilling fire *~
The barrel alight,
spilling fire like Pompeii in
years long forgotten.

~* marble words *~
Struggling to become,
within a prison of marble
words, a poem waits.

Untitled

outside the air is cold.
snow brings a bitter white blanket
that could kill without caring.

here and now though
we are warm.
bundled together under a quilt
handstiched with love.

no need to hurry to some
frantic dance of limbs and flesh

love is made not in grinding two bodies together
but in tenderness
in softness born of moments spent
cuddling on a snowy night

Torn

once there was a man who loved me
as I loved him

his words were soft
and yet they filled my soul with such fire
each sound tearing through my hardened heart
a machine-gun rending soft flesh
with each hushed phrase

his voice was the sweetest music
not gentle but clear
it spoke to me in ways that thrilled my skin
bringing to it a delicate glow

my heart leapt at every touch
each small smile
found a mirror in my own

I ached the day I learned
he was gone
a beautiful soul torn from my world
in a single lonesesome blast

my heart shattered
the icy grip of pain enfolded me
became mine
a wretched consort my only
comfort

once there was a man who loved me
as I loved him
every now and then I crave his touch
his voice, his scent
him

I love him still
even though I will never in this life hold him
share his thoughts
my thoughts

he gave me life
for that I will forever be thankful
and hold him in a small corner
of my soul

Winter Magic

children wait in their beds
anxious as they struggle to find sleep
before He comes to give
love and life and cheer

'He won't come if you're awake' they say
and so you can find them
eyes squeezed shut
hidden beneath warm and rumpled blankets
whispering excitedly

outside the ground is blanketed in white
the soft music of winter
of icicles chiming, branches creaking
in their winter slumber

the trees wait too
standing fast in almighty glory
deeply rooted as they endure this darksome night

winter magick brings many things

He is Santa Claus
or Father Christmas
He is the Oak King and Saint Nicholas
He is the return of the sun
of deepening light to warm the cold earth

the man in red brings warmth to all things
to anxious children's hearts
to the cold and quiet earth

spreading warmth
and joy
and love to all
beneath a starlit sky

Love Awakens

a breath stills
a fragile heart leaps
each breath counting the moments
until

fingers trace along fragile curves
liquid fire
to burn your touch into my skin

where once my soul
yearned for
a cessation of existence
to move on
into another lifetime

now love
fuels the inferno
devouring my fear
and pain

Awaiting

lights sparkle
gracing the verdant boughs
upon each branch a fragile orb
or bauble

beneath the tree of the season
packages sit
the bows upon them reflecting
each shimmering bulb sabove

this winter's night
the hearts of children
anticipate
the arrival of one who lives
only because they believe

brightly colored fabric skirts
soon covered in packages
wrapped in pretty papers
each waiting for the delighted cries
of children