I'd paint you in dreamscapes—
visions of rolling hills
and fields of autumn leaves,
your form draped in grass
and sunset dapple—
porcelain, delicate beauty,
a work of art, the way I see you

Why, you must be a man made of marble—
What else could have sculpted a face so beautiful
And a form so lithe, yet untouchable?

I'll unravel our thread before it's even spun
my dreaming and my pining and my manifestations
they'll be smoke choking out our garden before it's even planted

the veil of glamour and desire
that shrouds a heart, beaten so black
and blue, that deep down, revolts the
idea of ever being
loved, adored, or anything but
the maiming devil it knows well.

you shape my waking hours
I try to pick a nice perfume
I make sure I leave early
I look around just to see you for a fleeting moment
and I smile when I do

I pace just to daydream of you
your hands on my hips, your lips on mine
I turn the lights off early
and as I drift off to sleep, I pretend I’m in your arms

I could scream it from the rooftops
(if it weren’t a secret)
you’re my muse, you’re my one wish
I want you, and only you

here, all the trees are evergreen
steady amidst the bone-deep chill
for only they can pierce the sky
and root so deeply to be unmoved

oh, our beautiful iron maiden

where the gilded spikes stand tall,
steady amidst the suffering
for only they can pierce our hearts
and be unmoved by the screams

i grieved the fall
before i even took the leap

pulled off to the lookout
searched the vast horizon

and in the salt spray,
in every leaf and bramble
found you wanting

our eyes meet
and in that one moment
time seems to crystallize
every movement fractal
every last piece of me

falling
       into
  place

but I blink
and your memory fades
fast as it was dreamt of

tapestries woven of the stars
fading into our dappled sunrise
there, your wings carry me softly—
to be my dove, or my icarus?

how do I have memories
of something I never had?
my daydreams are fanged,
years of pained flashbacks
that were never lived

I dream of an eye that regales me
In all this earthly form, not with greed
But as the masterwork of God’s brush

oh, to be kissed
as the sun does this laquer skin
to breathe and be beautiful
effortlessly.

they don’t believe me
they don’t believe me
they don’t believe me
they don’t believe me

maybe if I repeat it enough it will lull me into some sense of calm
it will become a fact, not a knife through my chest

And so I dig a shallow grave
for the fairytale castles
All of a love that never was,
laid softly in the earth

is it the golden threads of fate
or your puppet strings on my hand?

i am so tired
of being everything
all at once

I have searched for a hundred years
Whittled to the bone, overgrown by silver ivy
But here, in my final resting place, you have been
And now your image lingers in my garden of respite

Why don't you stay awhile?
I'll carve your name into my burial shroud

for once, I have known peace
and it has known me.

I find myself looking back
holiday lights blurring,
fading into falling stars

Our first glance was like lightning
Bright and instant, gone as fast as it came
But I knew then I'd be forever changed

Coffee dates and long dances
We were a whirlwind, falling like the rain
Outside my window on that car ride home

"Forever," our hearts whispered
We bound our eternal fates together
And at that altar, I made a promise

I'd cut through your darkest storms
Like the cutlery you got for Christmas
Two years ago, when your mother was there

And I’d remember it all
From the way every strand of your hair fell
Down to the light in your eyes on that day

"Til death do us part," we say…

But I wake, and you were an ideal

in my dreams, I fall upon the altar
time and time again, the dagger
piercing my heart, for you to witness me

i am an unwilling passenger
upon the vessel of time

Thus begins the long winter,
the tolling of the bells and the names,
but now I look its wrath in the eyes.

sometimes I listen to my old favorite songs and I think
of how those words don’t echo in my heart anymore
how the chains we shared have formed my
feathered wings,
and now I breathe, I breathe the salt air
not where we started, but where I begin

An arrow pinched
Between delicate fingers,
Gently nocked, but aiming true,
Pulled taut against the bowstring.

It sings through the air,
Harmonious, but decisive,
And it strikes silently,
Knowing only one destination.

...And so begins Cupid's hunting season.

they wove me of delicate thread
now years-frayed and blood-stained
and even though my hands are torn
they still pull the needle, pull me back together

what figment of me
lives in your whispers?
what shadow dances
on your crumbling walls?

An oath uttered to none is an oath unbound,
but the watchers, the gargoyles of the sky and the earth,
are all witness in the night

there is no greater love
than one that transpires despite adversity—
one that stands tall and sturdy as the oak,
unmoved by any wind that dares to face it

like catching a falling knife together
double-edged, our blood on each other’s hands

The choir swells, wails, their song drowned
by your splinters of rapture in the night...
When you stand atop rubble and lingering flame
who will remain to laud your victory?

Smoke, ember, and ash—
remnants of flame,
memories, imprints of a taste so sweet,
of heart, bridge, and stake set alight,
drifting on the wind,
coming to rest in my open palms

I only had the nerve to dream
and you, the will to shatter me