Abstractions in Red

Pink-tinted vision. Eyes bloodied from sweat dripping into them. Rose-coloured I see clearly and I do not see. I am contorting, stretching, breaking myself in new and old ways. It is why I cry. Searching inside, I pick my nose to bleeding. I bring the drops to my mouth. Hot copper on tongue. I find nothing. Just pain and dry lost dreams tears cannot water to life back. So I stopped crying. Just pain and a mourning for things undead. Red in my eyes, inside me is red. Outside is red, where I slit my wrists to purge my demons and slit their throats while kissing them. Reaching in and reaching out, reaching back out with scarlet, reaching out for crimson.


Parched

The earth is parched.
Like my soul.
Inside I am
Clawed dry by
Thoughts of what
Could have been,
Can be,
What the past cradled
What the days to come
Bring.
Haltingly,
It is raining.
In tune with
My heartbeat.
For the first time
In as many days
I pray
That it will pour with
A vengeance.
The earth is thirsty,
Like my soul.
For goodness.
For comfort.
Any comfort
From any arms.
I want the sky
To open up,
To quench the earth.
Maybe in the torrents
I will also find
Respite,
The cool drops
Seeping into
My bones.


The World it Softly Lulls


Rarity glistened sharp
The memory of silver tooth bark bathed
Led light history
Fractured into pieces
And outside storm forks a snake tongue and
Curls through my finger tips warm rouge
Streak ribbons around my skull
The world it softly lulls
The world it softly lulls
The world it softly lulls
The world it softly lulls

Hiatus Kaiyote


 

Where do all the tears shed go?

Where do all the tears shed go? If one could capture them, maybe they could water parched souls and give back life. Or, they could heal hearts burdened by sadness and loss and restore minds ravaged by worry. If they could but restore hope and conscience.

If only they could rejuvenate skins dry from standing too long in the sun praying to deaf gods and slake the thirsts of those who have been talking into the wind, talking to a self that does not listen.

In their billions, maybe they could even quench the whole earth and drown us all in a warm wet comfort. If they could bring back what has been lost and those who have been lost, it would be worth the sodden eyes and reddened faces. Maybe then tears would have value and grief meaning. Otherwise, it is all for nothing.


Two More

Two more kisses for her and for him.
Two more minutes spent to make a smile.
Two more times we forgive.
Two more steps, two more stairs.
Two more servings of veggies.
Two more biscuits, slices of pizza.
Two more shillings, two more saved.
Two more heartbreaks,
Two more cracks for the light to shine through.
Two more loves, two more friends.
Two more hates, too much hate.
Two more hellos, two doors open.
Two more leaps, a little too much faith.
Two more times we try, just two more.
Two more times we fail, too many times.
Two more years to become who you are.