Creative Commons License Fruit of the Muses

hot kisses
of a star drowning
in her red,
abysmal hypnosis
melt into skin
through clouds
engulfed with tears,
a sky split between
a contrast
of sun brightened eyes
and a hand not met
against the window.

The rhythm stops
In a heart hardened to stone,
Cold as a tomb—
And forced to reconcile
With a mind posessed
By midnight’s demons of solitude.

You pulled me in 
The day you came back home—
A plague in your heart
And thorns in your bones.
I took you in my arms that night,
Pressed my lips to the scars,
The bullet wounds
That should have taken you from me.

I find those memories now,
Turning the diamond around my finger,
Knowing you are kissing her,
Knowing your name
Slithers off her serpent tongue.
I can only hope the best for you
When she leaves you alone with your demons,
When she burns you to the ground

Beginnings end
To begin again;
The tide turning
Upon a faith rendered useless.
So unkind, the darkness
Carried in the same hands
That ran so slightly
Over skin—barely touching,
Hardly skimming the surface
Beneath a midnight veil of sheets.
The thought eats through me—
Who are you,
But a soul, nothing
But spilled ink staining
The pages of a journal—
Only touched
When the heart swells
And chokes the mind.

Reflecting everything 
But their significance—
A heart, a home
Of brittle bones
And words unspoken,
Left plastered on the walls—
Are your eyes, slurred
With madness,
And a plea for mine to meet.


Raising mountains upon flesh
Your fingers trace the pulse
Of a heart in rapid fire
Breath wanes, collapsing lungs
Making room to bend
Skin against skin
Until ribs interlock
Until each bated breath
Falls into the same rhythm
Your touch becomes my own
As the dawn becomes
Your warmth and mine—
The flame burning
Sunspots in our eyes

Still, I feel
The trace of your finger
In the lines of my palm;
The breath of your kiss
In the smile of my lips;
The charm of your words
In the rush of my heartbeat—
A beat skipped too quickly
To make you stay.

I can’t think clearly when you show up at my house at 3 AM.
I can’t think clearly when you pull me in for a hug and when I step away you pull me in for a kiss—
When you kiss me and keep kissing me, as if the sun will not rise in three hours.
I can’t think clearly when it’s 3AM and you’re kissing me and it’s raining.
I can’t think clearly when you look at me like an animal, like there’s a fire raging inside of you.
I can’t think clearly now that I’m laying in bed with the taste of you lingering on my lips;
With the words you breathed too heavily to say lingering on my tongue.

I can’t think when my breath has yet to catch up with the speed of my beating heart.

Maybe, as sure as tomorrow’s arrival
There will be hope waiting
Upon your awakening.
Perhaps there is reason 
To the madness knocking 
Upon your window late at night.
Perhaps there is reason
To the incessant ache inside your heart,
A constant reminder to the infinity
Of which its beat renders the pain
Rolling with the clouds
Of this storm inside your mind,
Flashing lightning to keep you awake
With eyes wide shut.

I was there 
When you were restless,
When you were abandoned.
I was there, 
When a year later,
You stood upon my doorstep
With your crooked little heart
I the palms of your calloused hands
In need of mending,
In need of something much larger than I.

Opaque  by  andbamnan