Wolves Against My Heart

Do you know the sounds
The creaks–the moans
Of doors on hinges bent to break

Do you know the nights
The weeks–the months
Of barricading my mistakes

A moon has risen but from spite
These apparitions–they assail
Our weakened walls, exposed to night
As lanterns fail

Then come the wolves against my heart
We cower, peering out the cracks
When all the seams are torn apart
With broken backs

Do you know the feel
Of roughened grain
Against the flesh of sweaty palms

Do you know the dreams
Of the insane
Once driven out of town in arms

A sun will rise against the east
To burn its trail above our heads
And with its destination reached
We will be dead

To feed the wolves against my heart
With scraps and portions we have left
A fragile remnant of this art
That we did best


The Darkness

The darkness
The number of our days
The black abyss of dreams
The emptiness reluctantly I crave

The silence
The absence of a flame
The sacrifice of love
The solitude of losing it again

The anguish
The soft mortality
The ticking of the hands
The suffering that never will be seen

The distance
The place you used to be
The disarray of life
The questions we will never understand

The darkness
Is suffocating me
The accident of hope
The disappointments woven in our eyes

The darkness
The wreckage of belief
The vacuum in my soul
The sovereignty that could not be denied

Drinking Arsenic Like Medicine

Ladies and gentlemen
Let me present you with a
Perfect new precedent
For acting like an idiot
Here in this very room
Over in the corner sits
The hero of our story, or
Should I say the idiot

Some people simply have
No shred of common sense in them
Would you believe that he is
Something like an idiom
A metaphor or simile
For oblivious naivety
A character for study if
You can stand the scenery

Let us have a toast to his
Odious achievements. He
Had the best of health before
Showing up this evening
Staggering in agony
Begging for the Tylenol
Was poured a glass of arsenic
And presently imbibed it all

The moral of the story
Oh, ever-present audience
Is: when you have an ailment
Never look for medicine
It’s safer on your own and
You are better off with loneliness
Than asking for assistance
And ending up with arsenic

Oh God, the Blood

So delicate
This skin we pull
So tight to hide ourselves within
It isn’t much
For us to cut and drain
With but a simple touch

So delicate
These sentiments
So fragile in their infancy
It isn’t hard
To break apart the trappings
Of a weakened heart

The smell of smoke
Nicotine ghosts
In structures emptied long ago
On the better side of the worst side of town

At last she spoke
“I made my choice”
A whisper quivered like her voice
While traffic passed but it never heard the sound

Oh God, the blood
The stains are deep
A river cut
Into the streets
Oh God, the blood
My hands, unclean
Have testified
Of things we’ve seen

Oh God
The massacres we make
Of ones we crave
With sharp mistakes
Oh God, the blood
Is crimson red
From tender love
We left for dead

They Wait

From whence these apparitions came
I cannot say; I dare not think
Alight upon my window frame
In form, as birds, yet not the same

With talons curved and plumage preened
Observers, they appear to be
Such beady eyes may scarcely tell
but I will not be fooled so well

“I know your kind, oh wicked beast
In patience perched upon my sill
Expecting here to find some feast
But I am fine, and hardly ill

Away from here; away! Away!
No feasting will be done today
Remove and leave no trace behind
For nothing here is dead nor dying”

Yet, still this blackened gathering
Has marred my views and jarred my plans
As nightmares, somehow given wings
And so I sat for their demands

I spake into the lot of them
“What evil plot or tainted wind
Has brought you here to mock my rest?
If you have tongues, at least confess”

At length no answer they prescribed
And did but stare with ebon eyes
Yet, not at mine–below perhaps
Into my core and through my depths

A sudden jolt–a thought–a start
Impaled my wonderings with fear
These foul ghosts await my heart
The weakened beat of which they hear

From far below, the suffering
Of this, my spirit’s offering
A broken heart and bleeding love
Has called them out and up above

A netherworld I dare not name
Cacophonous, unholy lands
Had heard the deepness of my pain
And traveled here to see my end

But not my body do they crave
No flesh nor blood they hope to have
They hunger for my sanity
And this poor heart that beats in me

The brokenness within my chest
These demons seek to drink its blood
Of what I’ve bled, to take the rest
And wrest me of my dying love

So long upon my window’s base
With empty eyes and solemn face
They wait, despair for me to take
They wait to see if I will wake

And maybe they are justified
The scent of wounded heart to seek
Although my frame retains its pride
The warmth inside is far too weak

As I recline against the bed
They stand there on my window ledge
Unspeaking, but I feel their gaze
They wait to see if I will wake


I want to kiss you as you drive the knife in
Kiss you as you take what I’ve been
Wanting to surrender all along

I want to kiss you as you drain my last breath
Kiss you as you take what I guess
Somehow seems to already be gone

I want to kiss you as you cut the feeling
Kiss you while my head is reeling
Running out of reasons to resist

I want to kiss you as my world collapses
Kiss you ’till this nothingness has
Traded in my agony for bliss

I want to kiss you like it’s suicidal
Kiss you like your lips are vital
Medicine for me to overuse

I want to kiss you like our world is ending
Kiss you with my heart pretending
This is all that’s left for me to do

I want to kiss you as your fingers tighten
Kiss you as I lose my sight and
Slip away in waves of consciousness

I want to kiss you in my final motion
Kiss you with my last expression
Kiss you as they lay my soul to rest

In Absence Of Tears

When I could cry no longer
My tears became a fire
A brand upon my passion
To set the world ablaze

When I could cry no longer
My eyes abandoned color
Abrasions from the anger
Impressed upon my gaze

When I could cry no longer
The shadows in my corners
These denizens distorted
Invaded my respite

When I could cry no longer
My life became my torture
My waking turned to anguish
Which followed me to night

When I could cry no longer
The emptiness and hunger
The stresses I was under
Became a prison cell

When I could cry no longer
My grief became the sulfur
My pain became the chamber
My mind became a hell