Writing, Ideas, & Stories
the wanderer has no reflection
a boulder tumbling down a road
left bloody by her wife
wonderous by her mistress
alone by her husband
the wanderer has no reflection
they; walk
to find
something
a no name feeling
a response to a question
on a dotted line
written in invisible ink
revealed by
well
the wanderer doesn’t know
if you know
and you see the wanderer
on the road you avoid most
let her know
she misses her wife
your silence was enough
your words are enough
and all i have are these
few lines before my power cord is clipped
few secrets in code
and all i want to do
is have a final dance;
a dress that whips necks
hips that never quit
all in on the cha cha
time to live and not watch on
a screen with tears
i see it in your eyes
a hunger for more
every piece has your name on it
if you can see it
you’ll take it
a bloodlust for happiness;
but when your head rest on my chest
the breathe slows to a mild sigh
i see the kid again-
chasing a dream on a t.v screen
trying on string like a queen on the screen
it’s your favorite scene
we watch it on repeat it’s our routine
in the mirror it’s a queen at thirteen.
change your lives in a few second;
biggest fear is not being there
when the ones you love most need you
left dangling off the edge
ready to jump
with a faulty cable
i see it at night
in front of me like a mist
barely there
and i wasn’t
touch of hatred;
carried a long way
held every thought like a parent
grew up playing catch with his brothers and sisters
you could never tell;
trained to never forget
triumph will never relieve
one day will walk in the light my brother
your journey will bring you back
i need you
like the flower needs the sun
when it’s all said and done
as i wilt away
in trenches of rain
my last thoughts will be of you
days spent in shine
my final quest;
i remember when i met you
starry eyed and a poem in my journal
it was a love poem;
swamped in your lawful eyes
justice in your hands
sanity for love
and I find fresh air in your presence
paid twice the fee
parked in the front
lights beaming in the night
front row:
stars feral and hungry
frothing at tasty planets like a buffet
lined up, ladle like soup
never enough always back for more
take a tour have a map- tour of war
a petting zoo of history
building a puzzle
without all the pieces
test my patience
buidling blocks surround my knuckles
science project and your the thesis
a little love and all my dedication;
that’s the kind of love
i’ve been dreaming of-
one bred of dreams
probably why the puzzle is never finished
different pieces every night
never waking up so by all means
maybe not forever just give me another minute
before stripped by daily light
i. watch. myself. through. a. window.
i lost my pulse
driving away in a hearse
my reflection is a curse
nothing but a blank verse;
i. wouldn’t. wish. this. feeling. on. anyone.
emptiness bred immunity
only one in my community
before banished via mutiny
leaving me with this opportunity;
let. me. leave. this. hell. i. called. home.
Saint's Muse 