Tuesday, November 24, 2009


The darkness closes in
like the rising of the tide
Bringing with it a deparate cold chill

With a wind of ice needles
Stabbing relentlessly. Stealing
Breath and will.

It burns my skin, my eyes, my being
I scream. Lungs ripped by the melancholy
Freeze until voice is soundless.

trying to hide beneath facades, ballroom
masks of elegance. The raw texture of
my flesh remains exposed.

I yearn, call on bended knee. A prayer
Unanswered. Abandoned. Devoid
Of all that was once abundant.

So little strength. So little more.
Beckoning the onset of future unknown
To guide me towards the common goal.

Hand becomes fist, muscles tensed to
strike out, to inflict and relish.
Taste the blood on my lips.

Whirlwind of punished energy
Throws me out, spits far.
Soul cracked, chipped, a yard sale china plate.

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