In To This

In to this we find beauty
We smell life surrounding
Faded pictures and softened stones
Our souls drift between worlds of our making
Restful dreams that bare new thoughts
Heightened senses awakened by the dance
Restless hearts crash in the distance
The cries of past lives molding on our plate
This present
This future

In to this we plunge unguided
Walls within walls
A maze of unlocked doors
Memories grasping to be heard
Emotions drawing blood as they escape
A calm settles in over the night
The waves of possibilities shaping our lives
Well hung pictures adorn the facades
Battered innocence peeks out form behind heavy curtains
Eyes meet hearts to burn away the fog

In to this we forge our lives

Open Wounds

Open Wounds

Open Wounds

The words roll off the page like acid from her lips.
Burning new pain in wounds unhealed.
Everything that was is a lie.
The secrets held fast long overdue.
Delivered and planted with the skills of a heartless killer.

An open heart looking for forgiveness and understanding.
Only to find scorched earth and flames where once there was love.
But what love was this that seemed so real?
Dissolute and cast aside like waste from her bowels.

This love was a lie.
This life was a lie.
This truth was a lie.
This bond was a lie.

Doors left open waiting for even a faint taste of love.
Love not the same but still love assumed true.
Folly are these thoughts.
And false are these memories.

She draws the blade from behind her.
The blinding light of memories shielding it from view.
In a moment, a flicker of time uncountable to the life together that was.
She thrusts the sharpened blade deeper than life itself…

Pulling an unsuspecting and ailing heart from it’s nest.
Beating, beating still in the palm of her hand.
The heart drains of life.
The heart drains of love.

Until it beats no more.