Beseech

moving from one room to the next
but getting nowhere

treading barefoot
across the hardwood floors of my mind
no sounds

how do i combat this silence?

i beg you to believe in me
but you already do
so what's the dilemma?

maybe i don't believe in myself

Hermetic, nocuous, and ellipsis

the dark green monster
poisoning my mind
perhaps my mother was right
you lose the magic of yourself
when that's all you can see

Consternation

the fog settles on my skin like a lover's kiss
and suddenly i am a frozen fire
battling within

Burnish

we are not

the shiny gold star stickers

we once earned

for spelling a word right

or adding two numbers correctly

now we sweat and strain

and we are always looking up

so that our tears stain

our bodies

which never stop

we are climbing the mountain

and we don't even know where it ends

all we see is the cloud

and we are told that it is heaven

but we don't even know

is this faith

any stranger

than believing in god?

Pinchbeck and interminable

alchemy
the magic process
of turning dross into gold

this is an everyday occurrence
for some of us

this is an everyday struggle
for some of us

like breathing

Expurgate and myopia

imperfections
bubbles in the glass
tears in the fabric

we try to burn them out
sew them up
make them disappear

but what if there's beauty
in the broken?

Tome and froward

written not in ink
but in the liquid soul
will be our pages

bound together
not with string or glue
but fate

Osteopath

flesh melts away
exposing white bone
like pearl
fashioned from the dirt and grit of life

what you see outside
is nothing

Highhanded and toady

all the fire has died
am i the smoke that's left behind

where did that spitfire fairy go?

perhaps she grew tired of the empty flattery
she knew she couldn't live up to

Unwitting, erstwhile, and denigrate

the lava of your words melted our flesh
until we could no longer tell where i ended and you began
but it was mostly me
that swam through that volcano
finding a ledge
and hoisting us both up

you were too charred, too scarred to contribute

Defalcate and virtuoso

the moon sinks slowly below the waterline
where i wait with bated breath
for you to join
in the icy cold river
like you promised you would

instead i drown alone

you are a virtuoso
painting your lies
i am the foolish patron
who wanted to own a piece of you
and paid for my greed

Canine, victuals, and chaff

hungry we feast upon each other's dark looks
rough touch
sharp and scouring words

is this battle or banquet?

full to the brim
with your undeserved affection

Acclaim and bemoan

the drug i once
could not live without

you are not so hard to miss

but my mind is so much clearer now
even if my heart mourns
breaking the addiction

Yielding

with eyes closed
and fingers spread wide
you touched me
bending me back
molding me to your virulent fantasies
we danced that way
with your hand in my hair
your hand on my ass
and my heart in my throat
jamming me up
so i couldn't say a damn thing

Wanton

bare flesh, exposed and waiting
is that more wanton than the naked heart?

Vacuous

our history is empty now
like your side of the bed

i reach over
the cold sheets burn my skin

they're nothing compared to the words
you didn't use to say goodbye

Unconscionable

you drew the line
across my face
like a slap from your open palm

only
i imagined it, didn't i?

it was my voice
raging
red like the hottest sun

and you were the one hiding in the shadows
trying to keep your cool

Rancor, sallow, and talisman

unyielding yellowness through the window panes
streaking against your skin
the light invades our argument
and sharpens the contrast of your soul against mine.

you used to look at me
with magic dancing in your eyes

now when we're alone
i only hear thunder in the distance
my heart is still
and cold.

Obscure, pandiculation, and qualitative

Grace stretched in the darkness. Her limbs ached from the emotional weight of the night, and her body begged for rest. But her mind was alert and racing with thoughts, uncertainties. She needed to make a decision, but she had none of the charts, studies, research that were normally available to her at work. So she lay in the obscurity of night, waiting for her sister to come, waiting to discuss the things she had kept quiet for so long, waiting to be told what to do.

Laissez-faire, magnaminous, and narcolepsy

I am a free body, but I forge my own chains and bonds. I rob myself of the things that matter most. I am the worst enemy, the harshest critic, the cruelest villain.

Tonight I will sleep, and tomorrow I will be new. I will forget that other half. I will be only the best.

I will do this each and every day, until it is true.

Jettison and kinetic

"Here's what you have to do," she says. "Get rid of it. Everything you think you know, dump it. It's garbage, after all. And putting garbage into your brain or your body will make you sick. So let it go.

"Then find new stuff. Find better stuff. And keep dumping the garbage to make room for more. And remember that what comes in may be gold, but even gold degrades eventually."

Gargantuan, hapless, and iconoclast

What do you do when all hope runs out? That is what the big decisions are made of. This is the stuff you don't dare to tackle. These are the men and women who show us the way. This is how you change everything without losing the core of who you are.

Eclectic and fastidious

"You're too hard to please," he says.
"Well at least I'm not impossible."
"Are you implying that I am?"
"Are you seriously going to deny it?"
They are both silent, glowering.
"I'm willing to listen to other people's opinions."
"Only so you can ridicule them later."
"... Okay, that's true."

Ramble and sacrilege

The child walks slowly along the path, watching for thorns and brambles but otherwise unaware. Aloof. He wants to be taken by surprise, to find a hidden delight, a secret, sacred sight that will make this journey worth it. He takes the walk daily -- well, almost every day -- and has yet to see that unknown thing for which he is searching.

Candor and daunt

It's not that I'm afraid to tell you the truth. Sometimes I'm just not sure what good it would do.

Abstinent and beleaguer

Two little boys playing in the sand. Building castles together. Driving toy trucks across the grass. Throwing rocks into each other's moats. They don't know how different they are. At this age, they don't care.

Add a few years, whisper some dark words into their ears, show them some history books. Suddenly it's a whole different game, less innocent, less fun. Who will be the one to exercise their restraint? Which will remember that at the end of the day, regardless of the differences, at the core they are the same? Human.

Who should have taught them that?

Xanthous, yegg, and zealous

I once knew a guy who robbed ATMs for a living. You'd think it would be more difficult to make a living that way -- you'd think he might get caught. But you'd be surprised how little the cops care about $60 here and there.

Whenever we met up after a job, he'd be giddy, high off his power and his invincibility. He'd order me large chili cheese fries and we'd chat about the neighborhood, who was doing what, who was doing who.

Tacit, ultimate, and wanderlust

He could see in her eyes that she might leave again. Not that she would, but she might. He would never be able to trust her, to keep her. Stay or go, she was a free spirit, and though she loved him, it wasn't enough.

This was goodbye, even if she didn't know it.