You don’t have to carry me;
My long lines have touched the floor
And I’ve taken all of my clothes off
To bare everything I’ve got
And you’re not one of that.
Not your wary heart
Or your passive thoughts
Or even the calloused moments
Between making love
And walking away.
This is my burden
And you don’t have to carry me.
Category: black heart
Another Day (day 1721)
I am a little sentiment
Of ever growing resentment
Lost in a pond of gray
I’ve floated off on another day
But if you walk with me a while
I’ll show you how, erstwhile
I was once a former self
Lost amidst a dusty shelf
Crow’s Eyes (day 1718)
I remember when a crow flew
Into my eyes of fear
Leaving behind a little ghost
Who spoke words I did not want to hear.
But as I sat and steeped my tea
I could not gain my truth,
So little by little
An angry cry
Was heard above the rumble.
A cry that was not for pure peace,
A cry not from a babe,
My cry was loud and deliberate
My beak’d been getting black.
For when the grace of tempest’s blast
Ceased all ’round my hearth,
I whipped into such fury as
A devil burning brightly at my feet
Two eyes locked on mine, forevermore.
All the Same (day 1709)
Holes into nothing
And this is where I end.
Dropping as I awaken,
Say it again,
I didn’t hear you all the same.
And if I wake up
I am left to break up.
Minor chord progressions,
Like my heart,
It is the same song all the same.
Footsteps into distance
As my heart beats into resistance,
Does music still go on?
Is there an echo,
After all, it’s my memory all the same.
Owls (day 1706)
I’m not quite sure the song,
Ending of no name.
Alone and upturned,
Grass in white snow.
Yet all around was soul,
Spinning in mid-winter foul.
Owls at twilight
Memories in dancing firelight.
Embers (day 1703)
Closing my eyes
To windows
That cease to glow
Of excitement,
And embers beam
In the hearth.
Looking For Hope (day 1690)
From lines dragging down my wrists
I observed patience in a drop,
Dripping from my pointed forefinger
That rummaged odd bits discarded into
An old tin box.
I was looking for hope,
But instead found rusty nails
That left ocre upon my calloused tip,
Long ago since numb.
Dumping the remains onto the desk, I read out loud the words
That had been etched into the underside
By an uneven hand:
BOX 05 – EVIDENCE
These words sounded hallow,
And my thoughts once again followed
My wrists lines dripping
Onto the desk where an empty cartridge
Slowly rolled back and forth.
A Dream (day 1689)
I hung onto raindrops
That caressed a blurry,
Single paned window
Sitting empty in a dusty house,
Too tall for company.
I flicked white paint
Peeling along the border,
Imagining my memory
Washed away by a doorbell
That signalled good news.
Of course, a dream
Only dreams,
For never has a swan been seen
Basking among scarred lands:
Desolate trees with
Children’s toys scattered,
Left behind in a moments rush
Towards a meaning to all this silence.
Students Desk (day 1687)
Memories have begun to leave holes
I dare not fill,
I dare not plug for fear
Night’s sky should wash
Over my visage with a mirage
I could not grasp,
Though searching I should be.
And yet I sit amidst
This abandonned students desk,
My knees hitting a cold metal bar
That reminds me
I am only here a short while.
Follow Me (day 1685)
Don’t follow me
I am not feeling good.
I am not yet alive,
I am still feeling dead.
You gave your heart to me,
In a better time I
Had my heart alive,
Had my head held high.
Who is my glow out there?
A beacon lost at sea,
An ember fading fast,
A whisper, died at last.
