Make Believe

How we hope

craft facts out of

fiction

these little triumphs of

rationalization

only to sing the same 

 old cowboy song

try again, my love

stop looking for wisdom

once again you are

nature’s victim

take a deep breath

carry on

nothing more to see here

you were wrong

Desolate

Most remained here with me

I gave some to the wind                       

the wind that separated my toes

but something stayed    

crept     

poked 

inside

whispered

never mind the  

frost outside

inside is just as 

cold

Truth

 

All I wanted was one incorruptible truth to call my own.

But truth is organic, like a strand of DNA. It can mutate, or combine with other strands, until it evolves into something no longer bearing even a passing resemblance to its original self. For too long my truth did just that—twisting and changing, attaching itself to others and then corrupting them, until it became the worst kind of Frankenstein.

One that was always going to come for me in the end.

Under

I saw you then the knife

always you first

it kills in two hits

I would never know

back and forth

back and forth

even once to be close enough

how hard I wished it away

but the lie was everything

to you

 

Burned

 

were you caught

in the firestorm of a million

conversations

or lost

in a dying admission

 

because just one thing I can show

and that is I am here                          

without you                         

alone

 

Warped

“I’m here because he loves you.”

Megan laughed a little, even as tears of desperation streamed down her face. “I used to think that, too,” she said. “Star-crossed lovers, like Romeo and Juliet, kept apart by warring families. But you know what? It’s bull shit. If he’d really loved me—I mean, really, really loved me—he wouldn’t have left. And he did."

Alturis gave a dismissive wave with his knife. “You don’t know how men work.  We leave what we love.  It makes us feel powerful.”

“That’s ridiculous."

"So you say, because you are a woman."

“You mean sane.”

“The truth is crazy sometimes."  Alturis chewed thoughtfully on his salad, before he added, “Or maybe he didn’t want you to see him bald. A man wants to be remembered with hair.”

“He didn’t know he was going to be bald, did he?”

“Well, look at his father--bald as a pig’s bottom,” Alturis said.  “Sometimes, the fear alone is enough.”

Cold

 

my nighttime disguise         

this ink-stained mystery      

wrapped in broken           

bloodied history

which ring do I hold            which soul do I own            

will the blood in my veins      turn into snow

or should I sink

sink

sink

find a new home

deep in the drink

do I bear witness         can I name the crime             

will I break their hearts                      will they break mine                

only to limp         not to run               will I speak           will I jump

here where we cross

    where I fly fly fly               

         where words lift off the ground                       

open up the sky

I say no more     not tonight

if it wants to live    I will not watch it die

just to see              just to fail        

a tiger once caught

by the tip of its tail

        farewell                  farewell

                        my fairy tale

 
farewell farewell…