rhyssa1

the twelfth hour passes leaving the same old empty ache

we are living in bodies we surely never wanted
dismissing every need Ive ever had for touch
of time that could be better spent
looking out of windows feeling
sorrow -
mined from the depth of wounded souls
looking out from the solitude safety of my heart

Shadows lingering in my eyes
awakening
I leap from deep slumber
No pause in my
bullshit worship-
worship of this world,
full of the dead
who hate reality
as real as I feel it
in this blinded world of power
to the vulnerable
to the scheming,
and all illusions of control
as not all laughs are happy
and history has many cunning passages
which deceive with undercurrents
of whispered ambitions
think now
she gives
when our attention is distracted
famishes these cravings
neither fear nor courage saves us
virtues are forced upon us by our impudent crimes
removed from here
to lose beauty in terror
what is kept must be adulterated
should I use them for your closer contact with you
and I felt for myself
swinging loose from the shore
I am thinking so loudly
as words become coded to my back bone
these walls are worn down and blown away
and now only the dark foil cloth
remains to
hide in the shadows of his voice
see - my heart writes poems on leaves
they are lovely while they last
and I know the tree remembers
breathing different words
this beautiful tree

streets have shown me their bare bosoms
as this bed yawns beneath the weight of our absent selves
now threading my voice with lies of lightness
he lets you do something for him
he tells you something private
you are ready to die for him
you die with or without him
the shapes of day held no reality for them
they dream in shapes of vanity
help me while I stand alone
when the mind hones thoughts
ax sharp
I am afraid to think
for fear of being hacked to bits
from a wrong word said


I am sad without hands
I dont know about the cold
but I know what I like
I am a wild Appaloosa
running free