Monday

Florence And The Machine - My Boy Builds Coffins | SK* Session



My boy builds coffins and I think it's a shame
That when each ones been made, he can't see it again
He crafts everyone with love and with care
Then its thrown in the ground and it just isn't fair
light of the night.
at midnight 
i am meeting him 
behind the shed 
to embalm all 
memories of us.
i stand still 
throw to the moon 
sorrow and pain 
as tears run 
down my face
the air turns and i
can't seem to find 
my thoughts.....
     dreams
         even reality
everything falls to the sea
as he wipes my tears away

 
sand turns to mud.

aside the rain
which continues to fall
           harder and faster
        faster and harder
light in his eyes glow
even when the song 
doesn't play or the
moon can't sing 

 


i asked for a fork
             you brought me a plate
i asked for some space 
              you gave me a maid
nothing here makes sense anymore

 

notebook parts.
if you continue to sleep
      with your eyes closed
                     you will miss
     the best parts of 
   this life
 
blOOd splaTTer
scratching until
             i bleed.
         Obsessed
    over things I
             cannot
            change.

 
Feeling his love though
The tips of my fingers
         Down my spine
    Licking his words of
   Affection
While I stand
Fighting this fire inside
With
     R E A L 
              LOVE 

 
  A sensation of deep
Regret began to grow
 Inside my stomach as
       The moon’s glow
                   Dimmed.
 
 
woke up in a strange place
       feet wet
       aching mind
       no place to go
stood up and continued to walk
        ferns between each toe
drank water which a leaf held-
   grasped for clouds that
   seemed closer than air
only to choke on misleading
thoughts and dreams
   which I throw into
           this River
looking for answers-
       as I
stood still
              a flower
began to grow
        out my nose
        out my ears
this flower 
        began to
       G R O W


 

 
Floating,
Holding on to
Nothing while
Nothing holds on
To me. Grasping
For the last breath
of fresh air.

poem
Found myself
bones and all
Tripping over raindrops
Making the time stop
               Grasping hold
To thoughts and
             things that
Read me: whole
  Reflections looking
Me in the eye
To let go of
Secrets held
between knives
                and years
Of self-doubt

 

 

Saturday

 poem


wrapped around her heart

    vines of red thorn 

         eat away at

          her memories

 

the evening swallows 

           her fears 

takes the darkness away

as the moon rises 

her soul touches

secrets the stars hide

  when the winter

snow falls she 

     knows the Angels 

will come home


with velvet 

     grey clouds 

the flowers grow through

    seven years

    with his quaint 

touch only the 

crescent

     m o o n 

could feel


 

 

patrons of the 

Wolf Moon 

cry-

   after the 

black sheep are

laid to rest,

of course.


with nothing 

to be said.

  Peculiar thoughts

spread 

    thin,

across 

hot months

suns of 

August take the 


whisper to the

wind.

 


knocking 

these thoughts

down my 

   r

     a

         in 

s p l a t t e r   on 

the kitchen floor

i begin to shake

 J U N E.

maleficent 
love
beautiful 
    before
her-
she stands 
on the horizon
all i see
is her lonely
shadow.

 


tempted 

     by the sea

     to gently throw

my whole soul

to the wind

   just to

see what bee finds

  me.

next to love, 

    d r o w n i n g

     in her lies,

     my eyes swell 

full of tears.

metal feelings

you may have seen my body,
you may have held my heart,
but now- 
      just leave me in the dark.