Better

mistrust
distrust
no trust

been blue
been bruised
been used

cracked love
crushed love
no love

feelings gone
all alone
have no home

better this way
no piper to pay
with myself I lay

won’t be shamed
nor called names
play no games

just want peace
pain to cease
dark oblivion’s release

Photo from Pixabay

I Wait

sprawl in a wrinkled, uneasy bed
old demons and new share the covers
they jabber and snicker, toss and turn
chase away forgetful sleep
eyes on the shadowed ceiling
I wait for sunrise…

pour a cup of bitter, black coffee
greet the ghosts of past friends and lovers
resentful and accusing in their stony silence
tears slide down unforgiving cheeks
eyes on the cold floor
I wait for sunset…

pace dingy, dark, shuttered rooms
regrets, fuck-ups, and what-ifs hover
lamplight glints on gunmetal gray
what you sow, you shall reap
eyes on the bore of eternity
I wait for death’s release

Photo from iStock

Wolf

the wolf is at the door
he growls … I moan
he knows I am in here
afraid and all alone

the wolf is at the door
he claws the ancient wood
he knows I am behind it
he knows I will taste good

the wolf is at the door
his nose draws in my smell
he tastes the sapidity of my fear
his appetite I will quell

the wolf is at the door
I rise to let him in
this night will be an atonement
a night to pay for sins

the wolf is at the door
I gather my courage close
my fingers curl round the icy knob
I let in the lupine ghost

the wolf is in the door
he snarls … I scream
thrust my dagger into his heart
and carve out his bloody wet dream

the wolf is on the floor
I smile in satisfaction
he thought I would be an easy meal
too weak to take bold action

the wolf dies on the floor
no longer a threat to me
I write my name with his cooling blood
for other wolves to see

Photos from iStock and Pinterest

Old Crayons

white faith
purple hope
flesh yearning
can’t cope

green eyes
blue tears
pink lips
silent fears

brown thoughts
yellow emotions
orange screams
unending commotion

gray days
black nights
red dreams
nothing right

FYI–Crayola changed “flesh” to “peach” (for obvious reasons) in 1962. 

Photo from Morguefile

Together

Hushed snowflakes drift down from the night sky
Gently come to rest on the mountaintop
Blanketing its jagged peak in a mantle of white
And sleeps

Silver stars tow the sleepy sun upward
Rising dreamsicle-orange over distant peaks
Warm rays caress the alabaster veil
Flushed fingers probe

Melting pearls trickle down the steep slopes
Find direction in rocky cracks
Aqueous voices gurgle, giggle, gasp
Pour together in a joyous flux

Jumbling and tumbling down the descent
Crystal baubles covetously grab and grasp
Wet lips seek wet lips
Wanting, craving, needing

Spewed forth from the petrous cleft
Droplets cry out as they fall, fall, fall
Coming to blissful rest, entangled
In a glistening pool of spent desire

Together
Again
Joined
Home