The moth, she knows the flame will burn
But back again, again she comes,
Her velvet collisions dress the air,
Sparkling against these tempting embers
Where she throws herself over and over
Upon the most flickering of fascinations,
Such senseless self-immolation 
Strips her to a carapace, 
Leaving her scorched, naked, undressed, undone, 
Beneath the tragic unravelling of her world.

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She pressed her hand against the marble, felt its words,
Ran her weathered finger through the crafted names.
Many faces that had long since adventured,
Left for others lingering to bear the pain.

The autumn sun caressed its face and warmed the stone,
She drew it through her skin and let it stay a while.
Her silver head was bowed, her company her own,
To spend a few more moments...

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All I have to do
Is tip her…
All over my lips, at first, then
She starts to go down
Better than the rest
Her wicked whip of joy cracks with a satisfaction
Unmatched
Snatched euphoria glitters on a crush
And then, oh the rush!
She slips to that place only she knows
My god, she knows where to go
And knows what to do when she gets there
Which, naturally, she does, so quickl...

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I hide behind a lie forged by my hand,
Before this chiseled frame,  
Beyond the perfect shell they will not see my deceit
Thrown acrimoniously at their feet.
But they love the lie, the truth would only disappoint;
Disarray their shallow intentions,
After all, my invention pleases them
So why not let them drink up the joy
That it possesses? It impresses their eyes,
How the lies...

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It’s only one more
What harm will it do?
If you really loved me like I do with you
Then you’d let me just have it, no fussing or fighting,
Not sitting here giving me daggers, me lightning
And watching me suffer; I’ll make this the last,
I promise from this day forward I’ll fast
I’ll become a new man; just you wait and see,
But for now will you not be a bastard to me
And just h...

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The trees, so hidden well by thickened wood,
While senses hide behind the deep despair,
He, ridiculed by those that can’t but should
And persecuted by those that once did care.

As fingers point and clone the loaded gun;
They choose a victim crying on his knees,
To watch him beg for solitude, in one
And disregard his perennial pleas.

The rights and wrongs of progress bliste...

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Withered flowers fastened to a wasting bench,
Its plaque and pickled paint are weathered long.
The buckled slats curl flecks on harshest winter's freeze.
Where age defies intent to which it did belong.

As passers-by whom in their daily cues entrenched,
They, wrapped in woolen shields, look blindly on
And notice not the broken petals on the breeze,
Nor sense the echo of a parted...

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I lie and let the waves wrap 'round my feet,
As midnight skies perform the second act,
Where black and blue so effortlessly meet
And force the waters cold around my back.
I feel the sand bequeath my buried toes;
To let the grit defy my sodden skin
And as the open door to my soul grows
I let the frothy waters trickle in.

The moonbeams push my head into a daze
And buckle up t...

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It’s a funny place here, in your skin. Why do you keep it
So very pale? Like a sail left out in the sun
For too long and then flown at the turning of tides,
Though it glides across all of the seas
Its beauty is gone.

Such a strange place here, in your skin.
Like an ivory sheet thrown
Over sharp bones, pale tones and fingers
Pointing blame at passers by of unknown crimes
In ...

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