Refuse

I steal the light from others
And replace with a shadow of a flame
They carry it a while seeing something like the colors
That were taken and devoured
And they scarcely realize they’re not the same

A grain and then another
And before you know it, like an hourglass
They slowly drain away behind the ever-shifting cover
Of illusion that was soured
Only once they realized it couldn’t last

I see them start to spiral
As they bend into the shape of my duress
Shedding their departures at the cost my arrival
Like a seed that never flowered
And their better moments sold for my request

A meaning given viral
So I offer them the needles that I use
To strip away the edges leaving pulses running idle
And a life that may have towered
Do I watch it tumble down because they offered me a lantern and the shadow in me couldn’t just refuse

Leads

Perhaps we never parted
Never did, because we never really could
Divide the imperfections
From the infinite reflections
That we never really started
To perceive the way we said we always would

So now we hold departure
Like an ornament that waits to meet a tree
In days of burning summer
Where remembrance merely slumbers
And the stars are set as archers
And the pines of last November are across a frozen sea

Where reasons were discarded
Like a litany of elegies forgot
By lips securing phrases
While ignoring all the phases
Of a moon that we regarded
As a bridge between the moments that we sought

And now we say it’s over
Plucking petals, all the while sowing seeds
Ensuring that tomorrow
Shows another gift of sorrow
In a world devoid of clovers
Saying, “Clearly, have we parted,” in a circle where nobody ever leads

Apparitions

What wondrous apparitions
Have we granted such a monolithic state
Wrapping all around them are the tatters of conditions
That we knew were never destiny and so we tried to say that it was fate

And placing them in chapels
With a tithing made of all that could’ve been
Candles burning brightly and an offering of apples
Knowing all they do is rot away inside a mouth of “still, I would again…”

So callous reservations
Are we wearing hoping they can keep us warm
Stepping ever lightly on the make-believe foundations
That are holding up a temple that would fall apart if truth became a storm

But asking, in contrition,
If, for once, the apparitions could appear
Granting recognition of the cost of our submission
Knowing well they never will and yet continuing to hope that if we learn to make them real then it’s okay if we, in pieces, disappear

Dismissed

Diluting my spirit with spirits diluted
I wonder, how much of me’s left?
When words elocuted are barely a memory
Borne of the wreckage that left me bereft

With wandering syllables slowly saluting
A banner I made out of dread
And wearing a uniform made of out of treachery
Leaking affinity, just to pretend that I bled

Dissolving the meaning with meaning dissolving
I wonder, what’s left in the end?
When losses are mounting and all that I’m gaining
Are wounds that I know not a surgeon could mend

With withering elegies slowly suffusing
A martyrdom made out of mist
I buckle a smile to cheeks that are dying
And speak all the words that are trying to swim in the ocean of pain I dismissed

Proceed

Would petulance remove you if I speak
The words as if they were as strong as I am weak?
And set upon my heart, as if a laminate,
An armor that would minimize the burden of critique?

By statement like a hammer yet to strike
Do I concede that we are nothing but alike?
Or bind, to the contrary, all the evidence
Delivered by an arbitrary pulse that chose to spike?

Would sentiment deliver me a path
Devoid of error just to circumvent the wrath?
When looking at the pictures made of circumstance,
Was I a fool to turn the worst emotions into math?

By rigid arbitration and a need
To see a meaning, did I merely never lead?
Or here, in hesitation, did I choose to hate
How much I had to hold on to the past, and on to you, so I could learn how to proceed?

Rings

A cluster of geometries I hold and rearrange
Comparing them to circles and elliptical designs
And moving them about as if in doing so I’ll change
The way they never fit –
By turning hexagons a bit
And forcing spirals into places made for lines

A handful of obscenities with edges filed down
And bent into the clamor of a ticker tape parade
That flickers in absentia there beneath an iron crown
That never really shone
Beneath the canopies of stone
That there were reasons never said for why it stayed

A clutter of anomalies I fold and organize
Contrasting them to syllables I never really spoke
And holding them aloft as if the doing could resize
Their gravity and weight
Or, to myself, how they relate
Or, from the fire, the immensity of smoke

A grouping of amenities that all metastasize
A gathering of angels bound to neurasthenic wings
With lips upon the badges made of blood I thought a prize
They sing a serenade
Before the banquet that I made
And ’round my fingers, all their teeth, I wear as rings

Cross

Should I have thrown the sky into the sea
Gone racing for the water in a lake of mirror waves
And promised that the effigy I burned
Was never what I promised it should be
Where fingertips are mausoleums in a world of graves
With stoic gaze, should I have never turned

To face the sun I swore to watch decay
A penny in between my fingers blotting out the moon
Embracing every spurious eclipse
As testimony to a better day
That tapers like a candle that I burned before it’s noon
To hide the tombs upon my fingertips

Should I have chased the sea into the sky
Gone flying over chasms that would only spiral down
And told myself that plummet means ascend
That living is the epithet to die
And breathing is the prize that I deserve for being drown
When death I duly found and surely penned

Upon a page that purges any ink
And leaves me a reflection that is surely just as blank
Should I insert the memory of loss
Between the vivid sights of every blink
Deposit them as coins into a vacuum of a bank
And mouth the words of thanks as I obsequiously craft another cross

Bleed

She left me
So I left me here with wrist set like a sieve
She left me
So I guess we only have this to believe
She’s gone
And maybe dawn is just a joke for which I grieve
She left
And so I left and now the only thing that’s left to do is bleed…

Cure

Wings made out of never never flew
Where down below the fields of new elysium nobody knew
And shadows never dappled light when seen by very few
For seeds made out of seeming always seemed to be the dreams we never grew

Arms of never ending never yearned
Below the rigid carapace of cold where lonely summers burned
Creating a facade of shadow figures unreturned
For longing made of odds so very long becomes the longing that we spurned

Vessels full of loss were never light
The wings becoming shale before they even knew the word for flight
That wrapped around – an armor made of ardor that despite
The shifting underneath it was a ship and so a sheath in deepest night

Woes becoming woeful always were
The passages to ledges where the precipice is looming sure
To sink all the forever that we never did prefer
To seeds we made of seeming and of odds so very long upon a ship that won’t deter we carried plagues of our desire to land without a cure

Injection

So, there with an elixir
Made of all that couldn’t mix
A vial full of colors so bereft of any picture
That I’d painted or beheld
Or in dependency compelled
To be liniment was nothing but a fix

And shaking it to cause it to appear
As though it could combine all the opaque and all the clear
To merge into a serum that my blood could thus adhere
But by the time the needle drew single, solitary drop the mixture that should be would disappear

By slowest calculation
Of the many moving parts
Constituent ingredients
Arranged by separation
Like the chambers and the valves of any heart
They offered no obedience
Within the circulation
Of the sanguinary circuits that I tried, but couldn’t chart

So passing any passiveness of pointed introspection
And seeing in a mirror made of mercury, reflections
That made me wonder why I cared to prove a safe connection
When in truth it wasn’t truth that I was hoping to behold from the injection