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I saw a butterfly today.
As I waited for life to start,
I watched it dance across the space
allotted by time.
It piroutted above the milling heads
of important individuals,
parading its exquisite hues.
Slowly, it floated up towards me and whispered,
"I try so hard for them to notice
even knowing they will all to soon forget."

hanging

What then
when all the words
have been written
and all that is left
is life
moving on
without you?

just a thought...

We create so many ghouls and monsters in the hopes that when we project the horrifying truth about our humanity onto them, we might by some miracle become beautiful.

mine

in this darkened corner
i hold the two pieces
of a long-forgotten puzzle

as the shadows lengthen
and the echoing
moans of a broken soul deepen

blameless

where was i when the sides
were chosen
when the laws and the

endless
bickering
chose the arbiter

for this
our last
tussle


i feel now as if



I



am to blame
for only i
wished it upon US




i won't be posting for a while (probably 2 weeks) because my 1st semester has officially ended and i have to go home for the break. *this note is for all the sweet people who are kind enough to visit my site. thank you*

the ninth

she stands barebreasted
in the rain
with her softness
and infirmities
naked
to the wetness
carressing her intimately
with tiny fingers
and broken nails

the night
black and beckoning
abides
on the temples of her luminance
lathering
the shoulders of her longing
tracing
the curves of all
that is woman inside her

she dances with eight muses
bending to the silence
and submitting
to voiceless agony
as a stream of raindrops
cover her in anonymity
forming puddles of doubt
beneath her feet

as she turns
arching her back
throwing her head
flailing wide her arms
the rust sets in

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i can't seem to find anything to write about. just when my life is getting interesting and things are starting to seem just about ready to explode into a big kaboom of angst and hurt, i find myself in this slump most often called "writer's block".

i am a big mess of ironies.

even if in vain

I search for your silhouette at night
when the lights are dimmed
and the corridors
that witness your whispers
are lifeless

I seek your warmth
as the wind traverses across rooms
reaching with scrawny
fingers
for sleeping prey

I wait in eager anticipation
for the return
of the faint trace
of your breath
upon my being

Once upon a time

Walt Disney ruined my life. All this talk of true love and happily ever-afters. All the dreams of having prince charming come and sweep me off my feet to take me to a haven full of blurred flowers and yellow butterflies. All their poor little princesses who eventually get their perfect lives together in the end.

It would have been so easy to tell who prince charming was. The first guy to come along who looks just about ready to go fight a fire-breathing dragon just to receive a perfumed handkerchief from your dainty hands would be mr. regular-everyday-prince-charming. The only problem would have been locating the nearest fire-breathing dragon.

But alas, as is the sickness of youth today, I fell for the immortal joke of good old Mr. Walt Disney. How was I supposed to know that the ride into the sunset does not go on? Who was supposed to tell me that the story continues to include twelve children and an oversized prince who apparently forgot the important concept of moderation? When will I learn that nothing and nobody changes? Those who hurt you aren't under a spell that can be broken overnight. No. Not even if I wait a lifetime, it will not change and I do not have the power to break the curse we have stumbled into. No amount of shooting stars or waiting for a fairy godmother will do the trick.

How much longer before I get tired of this?

of you?

desperate

harried streaks of tears
r d
a o
c w
e n

dark skies

containing stories of eros
shattering on the pavement

creating echoes in the
recesses of the soul

and you run
naked
as the downpour begins

with outstretched arms
you fill your mouth

in the hopes of
salvaging
even
a
single
drop for your own