blood stained feet
walking
where others
fail to meet
their makers
i choose
to re-create
my life
the change
upon me
so great
the smallest
tear
is from
the widest
fear
of being alone
forever
the china
fragile
break it
silently
hollow sounding
heart
hounds
like
dirt dogs
in far off
wars
i'm certain
i'm at
my final
curtain
and the
details
we could spare
not
as i round
myself
like a top
and prepare
my scene
as the
dancing queen
the tragic
figurine
who can never
figure out
her own dreams
are burnt
by the schemes
of many
a bad hand
a painted
tainted
heart
that parts
the sea
like
twin
dualities
all love
is lost
the cost
painful
a brief
recess
unsuccessful
even at
living
out my
life
alone
never
would i
have thought
what should
have been
my better years
would be
stricken
with such
grief and fear
that
only
deep
sorrow
and tragic
loss can
ever find
in the
dark
corners
of the mind
it's hidden
behind
the curtain
the stain
glass curtain
that keeps
me in
my tragedy
until
i play out
the last part
of my
destiny
if i dare
not to forgive
then i deem
myself
unforgiveable
as this
life
has
been
to me
the dancer
on top
of the tree
solo
accompanied
by me
twirling
like a hurly bird
a naked seed
a running
bleed
as i paint
with
the pink
peonie
the blood
drips
all over
me
scars
will one
day have
to be explained
explored
retained
forgotten
wars
of the heart
let them part
ways
with the
heart
that never
was meant
to stay
on this earth
for as long
as it has
i only know
i wish
i could take
it all back
but it never
lasts
like sand
falling
through
the cracks
in my hands
the bland
the china
was sold
you know
and it was
cracked in
places
that made
the roses
look like
fragile
life forces
on a mere platter
it no longer
matters
that the heart
is pinned
to the sin
of others
passion stolen
when glances
are bold
and chances
are
i'll never
get far enough
away
from
myself
to dance
my final
curtain call
everyone
fades to
an ash
colored dust
with a blush
painted
on the cheeks
blood
once rubbed
against
my skin
and dripped
down into
the pits
of bitter hell
where everyone
fell
that year
and i
crawled
in crises
and called
to God
and beg
for mercy
and live
with this
tattered
shorn sheep
like matter
on my head
like a mop
of blonde rope
a brick of
skinned goat
soap
that
cleanses
the outside
but dusts
the inner guts
into the deepest
ruts of despair
i have no
curiosity
left to stare
down
i'm there
i know not
where
i'll spend
out my final
prayer
but it is there
that i will
meet
his feet
bloodied
nailed
a wooden cross
a purple rose
a thorn
in my eye
a single tear
that fell
from the sky
that night
i was holy
this day
i am temporal
i shall seek
refuge
in nothingness
forever spinning
in circle
like tops
put the stop
on this life
and hold on
for the long ride
reside sublime
until death
chimes in
with it's
horny grin
and reaps
and rapes
my world
again
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