Trickery Of Fates

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Trembling hands tucked tenderly in the pockets
Of an overcoat pretense ministered with a smile
Nervously adjacent to a tangled weave of angels
We administer the dosage of a thousand sleepless nights
I feel the tug of Atlas asking penance for his negligence
While I, beneath it all, can muster nothing but a laugh
The serenade of symphonies concluding these procedures
Is the theme for those who fall in love but never make it back

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Too Soon

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Press your fingers on the wound
We can’t
We can’t allow the blood
To leak away–this is too soon
A love no memory can fill

Breathe again–you cannot stop
I want
I need your eyes to move
Do not succumb collapse and swoon
These gashes surely have to heal

Take my hand–you must respond
I won’t
I cannot leave you now
If only just an utterance
Bestow a sound upon my ears

Look within these pleading eyes
We were
We are the stronger sort
No matter how our heart is hurt
The pain reminds us it is there

Oh, agony has pricked
Into the depths of what I hoped
But still the battle rages deep
Beneath the skin of my desire

Oh, the beauty we inflict
Upon a world that never knew
Has been distorted into blame
To feed the embers of our fire

Oh, you know I’d give the last
Of every breath I’ve yet to take
To pull you safely from the fray
Into the circle of my heart

Oh, you cannot slip away
Beneath the torrent of this pain
There is so much for which to stay
And I am not retreating yet

Marionette

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Tugged from the box where her wrappings protect her
Carefully placed on the stage
Strings on the joints that will make her an actor
Fit for the part she will play

It’s a clever surprise
It’s a perfect charade
Not a soul would suspect
All the nights she has cried
With this sturdy disguise
And a smile that won’t fade
She is dancing in time
But she’s empty inside

Held up by ribbons and strings to support her
Well rehearsed lines and replies
Looking so much like the girl they have ordered
But for those colorless eyes

It’s a masterful turn
It’s a desperate act
To protect what is left
Of a magical life
But she packs it away
When she exits the back
And the smiles are gone
When she’s down for the night

Little marionette, you don’t have to pretend
You were made without strings
You were born into tears
Little marionette, you have color and skin
You can mount up with wings
You are stronger than fear
Little marionette, let the audience wait
They can come back again
You don’t have to perform
Little marionette, it is never too late
If you really must dance
Would you dance in my arms?

Pens & Needles

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Tapping the page
For a delicate vein
To inject with the dosage
Of ink and its stain

Struck by remorse
For the injuries caused
To offend such a fabric
With my brand of pain

But I pressure the point
Through the skin of this ivory
Piercing the heart
Of an innocent leaf

And it never revolts
Against me and my thievery
Innocence torn
By the words of my grief

The unspeakable, spoke
From the absence of healing
Prescriptions I wrote
In the songs of the night

A transfusion my throat
Sacrifices from feelings
Like dissonant notes
In the wrongs that I write

Tremors

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Writhing as if I have something inside of me
Twisting my stomach and squeezing my heart
Gasping as if there is not enough air to breathe
What is this agony?
Is there no sympathy?

Crumpled and folded like drawings you wouldn’t keep
Wracked by these tremors infecting my limbs
Clinched in a fist like my fingers are weaponry
What is this agony?
Is there no sympathy?

I know that you will see much more composure
When this is over; if this is over
I know that we can be civil and sober
Once we recover; if we recover
Maybe the antidote lies undiscovered
Under these tremors; under these covers
Maybe in time we will find it together
But for tonight I am destined to suffer

Bitten

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Lips against the crescent of her neck
He gently steals the essence of the angel
Replacing it with solace
Of a numb and silent sort
While the beating of her heart
Slowly quiets
In his arms

Silken smooth across his heaving chest
Her fingers trace the last of this resistance
Surrendering to shadows
Fully taken in embrace
Like the palette of her face
Fading graceful
In his arms

Whispered prayers attended with a kiss
The agony–imprisonmen–of fighting to exist
Her fragile body mending
From the ailments it had borne
Cure–from an unlikely source
As she changes
In his arms

Deepest Cuts

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It always takes
The deepest cuts
To wake us up
To wake us up

It always takes
The sharpest knives
To change our lives
To change our minds

It always takes
The strongest pains
To make us brave
To keep us sane

It always takes
The deepest cuts
To wake us up