Burn

As Sodom and Gomorrah burned,
So let memories of us burn
in this searing blaze
hungry for our pictures and every thought of you.
Let it burn away your lingering taste
and all the honeyed lies that flowed
like dripping nectar from your lips.
Let these raging flames burn hotter
than the fire in my blood
during all those stolen moments lit
with colliding lips and teeth,
and promises that never came to pass.
So let this fire burn
In the way that you and I could not—
a brightly shining star
that was never ours to wish on.

Memories

Arrested, you stand still as a familiar feeling grips you.
A well-known scent, the flirtatious laughter of a passing couple,
and you find yourself drifting slowly into her memory.
Like gliding into your favorite pool of water on a hot summer night,
the sky a black velvet blanket with diamonds strewn haphazardly across.
Whispers of lovers drift past your ears as her laughing green eyes tease you with their depths.
The love in her burning brighter on those nights than all the stars combined.

Ink Hearts

It only took a moment
of vigorous scrubbing under the flow of water
for any trace of me to disappear from you.

Why was your soul imprinted on my heart
when mine was nothing more than
black ink strokes upon your skin?

*This poem was inspired by a Word Prompt from Heartstring Eulogies.

Unrequited

It tastes of the river.
Bones rattling in the empty darkness
Echo in the stillness of her ribcage.
Restless; you stare into the stormy night,
Imagine bodies falling from bridges.

A light footfall and the sound of indigo
Blend into the subway. It spills its secrets
To the dark tunnels
As women rush by
Exposing wrists–haggard and drawn
As the worn grey scent of money.

You move your fingers over her spine
And think of lightning.

Broken Clocks

You frighten me.

When you ask me for things like friendship,
companionship,
a night on the town.

An invitation thrown carelessly,
like a pebble in the water,
as you walk away without a care in the world.

As you walk away without realizing
that I am made of glass
and a misplaced throw may shatter this perfect illusion
of my reality.

I tighten my grip as anxiety roars to life
and settles on my shoulders with its familiar cold embrace.

“I’ll be there,” I whisper
Because I’d hate to disappoint you with my silence,
my absence,
my mysterious disappearances.

But I breathe in and swallow my fear
because even a broken clock
tells the correct time every once in a while.

To Love Deeply

If you’ve never truly hated someone with the deepest of bitter resentment and the hottest fire of burning rage–then do you truly know what it is to love someone?
If ever the black crashing waves of the purest loathing have never pummeled you, sucking you under in the fierce current of their bottomless depths, then tell me–how do you ascend into that sweet paradise of sublime beauty in equal measure?

To love deeply is to risk letting the pits of hell take you into their unrelenting embrace.
To crash unexpectedly into that fiery inferno, arms and legs akimbo as you pinwheel helplessly through the air.
To feel a thousand deaths as you watch your dreams sputter and die, winking out one by one.

But the glaring tragedy here is not having to survive such unbearable loss, no–the real tragedy here is to never have felt that kind of consuming love at all.

Invisible

Invisible in a world full of molds,
We search desperately for someone who will see us–
Beneath the masks, beneath the facades, beneath the uncertain smile.
Will today be the day that someone will finally take notice of me?
Hear my words, look into my soul,
Acknowledge the small flame of my existence?
Will you be the one to stop by for a moment,
And warm your hands briefly by my fire?
To let me know that for a moment in time,
I was not alone in a world full of molds.