19 Friday Feb 2016
Posted in Uncategorized
Life
For some
It is a battle
One
That cannot
Be won
It is a war
Waged within
Fighting
Personal demons
That sometimes
Win
This week, a friend of mine that I have known for nearly 35 years, who is like family to me, lost his son. His heart is laid bare and shattered into a million pieces that will never be able to be picked up.
And all I can do is stand there. Cry with him. Remember with him. Listen to him. And sit quietly with him.
09 Tuesday Feb 2016
Posted in Poetry
Don’t think
For one moment
That you aren’t buried
Far too deep
Within my heart
That a day
(Hour… Minute… Second)
Goes by
That I don’t think
About you
Don’t think
That I don’t whisper
Your name
Before I sleep
And in my dreams
That your name
Doesn’t slip past
My wicked lips
My hungry tongue
Or broken heart
Don’t think
That I don’t ache
To make you mine
Heart, body
And soul
That I don’t crave
To bend your flesh
Make you scream
Thrash and moan
As I fuck you numb
06 Saturday Feb 2016
Posted in Poetry
03 Wednesday Feb 2016
Posted in Poetry
02 Tuesday Feb 2016
Posted in Poetry
Lips that know her name
And ache to know her taste
Hands that know her curves
And ache to make her tremble
Come here my darling
Yesterday is gone
Tomorrow is yet to be
Today… Tonight is ours
Tangle your fingers into mine
Lay your head upon my chest
Listen softly to a broken heart
That only beats for you tonight
02 Tuesday Feb 2016
Posted in Prose
Tags
Hotels are interesting places. Away from the rest of the world, away from your life, and for a brief moment you can pretend everything is as it should be.
Or at least you try to pretend. You look around and realize you are just as alone here as you are anywhere else.
You look at the door, expectantly… Maybe she’ll knock. Of course she has no idea where you are, and even if she did, she wouldn’t knock. Not on your door.
——————
I’m not sure how long I’ll be in this hotel room. Another day, a week, who knows. I just know I’m here alone. And she won’t be knocking.
31 Sunday Jan 2016
Posted in Poetry
Too many things
Spinning in my head
And crashing
Through my heart
I think I’ll close my eyes
Just for a little bit
And try to remember
Simply how to breathe
19 Tuesday Jan 2016
Posted in Musings
Decades ago my grandfather bought me a plot in the graveyard among with the rest of the family. It was always so surreal to see my name on a tombstone with my birth date and a dash. It was as if it were just counting down the days.
My sister went to visit my father and grandparents tomb last week and said there was a large crack in my tombstone. None of the other ones near… Just mine.
She said she was going to get it repaired, I told her not to worry. She paused… Then asked why. With my mask on tight I smiled through Skype and said it isn’t worth the money, it’s OK.
Inside my mask, in the thing that dwells inside, I simply thought why not let my sigil in death match my soul in life. Cracked and broken.
01 Friday Jan 2016
Posted in Poetry
10 Thursday Dec 2015
I was once in a house in a city, continents, even an ocean away, and I felt more at home than home ever did. I know what you’re wondering – what was this city?
And you see, that’s exactly the wrong question. It didn’t matter what house, what city, even what continent away.
No, the question is why home has never once, in all my life, felt like home.
Wounded Memories 