Wednesday, June 27, 2007

Your left-over paper wrappers.
Warmth of a moment still lasting
Being dragged away by the hand
Of a colder wind.

The promises you made,
Remembered around my neck;
Torn by the wind and
Your leaving.

These paper lanterns hold no more light
Than fireflies.
Your heart holds no more love
Than this moment.
The tips of her fingers slide down his cheek and drift across his neck.
The dark washes over his features, as she traces them blind
And remembering.

With lips she marks a tiny stamp below his right eye.
A flutter of fingertips
And her right hand to his left.

In this enveloping darkness there is only touch to rely on.
There is only skin.
But she is afraid his touch will turn to ice;
A frigid indifference that is reminiscent
Of cold winter curtains.

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

New Blog for Disney. I'll still be using this one though for my creative outlet - poems, short stories, rants...etc.
There is a ripping of the seams.
A silence much too audible.
The dark of night wavering
With indecision.

Monday, June 25, 2007

Feathers and blood matted his hair.
Her hands rough glass across his skin.
His ribs lunge out farther
As he inhales, exhales -
Each breath straining for something
He's forgotten.

Friday, June 22, 2007

The cold frosted over your eyes, so that I was looking only at the shell of you. A carbon copy of your soul. Let's dance, just a little longer. This song and your cold, cold hands.
I was distracted by your
Kaleidoscope eyes.
Our fingers meeting

Folded up butterfly wings
And someone saying,
"they die. When you touch them,
they die."

I didn't want to get too close.

And then, your eyes
Our lips meeting
And a time when I couldn't remember a time
Without you.

Your paper butterfly wings folded up
In my arms.

Thursday, June 14, 2007

"Don't go," she says in the half-dark
Bedroom light.
Her skin pales in comparison to
The stark white sheets.
Rose lips blossom on a white cloud
Where her head lies -
Across an ocean from mine.
I want to brush the hair from her face.
I want to kiss her and tell her,
"everything's going to be fine."
But I can't make the words form -
Promises are poison to the tongue.
Instead, I finish dressing and leave,
Locking the door to the room -
Where she lies,
On stark white sheets.
I could breathe hot fire
Through lungs piercing
Arteries and veins.
Sweet nothings
You promised
On half-full moons,
Lips sweeping across
Bare flesh.
There was something about
The moonlight, slanted across
Hot skin,
That made your words valid.
Twisted tongues could never
Be so sweet.

Tuesday, June 05, 2007

I could listen to the rain
For hours.
It reminds me of your heartbeat.
I forget time.
Let's meet where the rain begins
And time ends;
The corner of your lips.

I'll fall asleep to the sound
Of your fingertips running
Across my stomach;
pitter patter.

Like the rain;

And your heartbeat
When we kiss.

(This is how it feels to be in love.
Pots and pans. Perfect silence.
Ecstasy in embraces.
I've fallen asleep so many times
In your arms.)