For Something New

I can never be clever enough for you,
your actions speak volumes like
a spiked weapon to my heart.

I take everything like a willing
victim of life's leftovers, and
become a cast-off to wasted time .

You painted colourful plans,
wrapping me up in it with a nice
daydream then dropped me hard
to the floor when things had lost
their needed new excited flavour.

But you never know quite when to
vocalize the simple pathetic truth,
instead like an afterthought
I wake up to find the emptiness
of a solo passing breath abandoned.

Grief

A place that makes
one's heart dark
with jaded numbness,
my loyal identity
ripped away.

Raw flesh a fire
I find myself living
from the outside in.

Hard to fight
against king rat
when the countrymen
become foot soldiers
for the blind leader.

Doomed is my faith
for the world cries
hard with waters
of crimson that
cast shadows which
dance in the
paleness of fear.

I grow disgusted
at my growing hatred,
given as a bandaide
across my overwhelming
hurt.

The desire to strike
the death blow
held back by a soul's
persistence to hope...
to dream.

Dreaming Spirit

In my dreams I feel you,
Your touch is like angelic
kisses to my heart,
diving into my slumbering
spirit, taking me over.

The night is our theatre
as we put on a show
blinded by the glow
of the voyeuristic stars.

Nudely aware of my
own private pleasure,
my desire always makes
you come closer to me
with touches and kisses
that I only need at night,
alone in my costumed bed.