Poetry is like a muse of words twisting away from our mouth. We are the weavers of our own design, we are the weavers of our souls, and here lies my story spoken in the words of a unique unicorn who strayed too close to sun. 

Diving into the sea

A black car like a hearse sped towards twisting, swaying snakelike creatures,

unaware of the sea of despair awaiting for its journeys end.

Hands yanking as as crystalline tears spread like AIDS Down my cheek,

What was it he was so venomously mad about?

My eyes seeing myself like it was some sort of slow drama about to hit the hardest part.

his warm hands gracing me a slight pat on the head, before,

being pushed out of the racing car, inaudible words ringing like chimes

Was he on the break at all?

Twigs, stones, gravel,

I hit the ground,

like a dying squirrel falling,

unable to steer its body

plumping to the ground head first,

Liquid washing down,

warm like his fingers,

Mind a whirl like a pool of confusion,

His black slick electronic lingering the urge,

The call haunting forever,

Don’t move, don’t talk,

Bright lights arrive like a bird to its dying child

A faint view of translucent dark blue

Pools of despair reflecting crystalline aids down my face

If ice is cold, fire is hot, and death is stone,

forgoing between the three as my body stepped through twigs,

Tip of the hill overshadowing pools of despair, a figure,

tall, glinting diamonds in slivers of silver light,

I couldn’t be sure if I was hallucinating, or hoping for a savior,

Leaping into the sea of sorrow,

splashing as loud as a bomb,

echoing in my brain,

waves shattered,

memories broke,

I could hear the song of birds as it approached

It stung

Yanking my body away from familiar hands

they belonged to a stranger now,

words as slick as a masterful snake whispered from his mouth,

song birds approached,

mutters words of pulling out bodies,

My brain only embracing fire,

Mad like mad hatter,

Lost like Alice,

I was mute as morning approached,

my soul was lost 

Drops of poison

Flecks of poison down my mouth,

You were the first fleck of light,

Sparkle of you’re raven hair,

Your river eyes,

Way we hit the next day,

under a basement of dirt,

Clothes left on the side of the pool of the forgotten,

striped bare.

Music like church,

We climbed our loyalty,

weaker than lovers

We chained our hands around slivers of wood,

You were the first slice of cake,

tickle warm palms

coal eyes

Way we hit the next day

thrown away on a pile of sheets

music like lighting crashing down.

Our pain all the way to the moon,

A fleck of poison caresses my back,

Twist of fate,

How could you fake it?

Till you break it?

Your river eyes,

Way we hit the next day,

craving each others lips,

music like whispers of ecstasy

embracing out black rose of rust

As if it was the last speck of dust

We chained our hands along broken branches

You were the first taste of hope

fresh addictive scent of ice,

Way we hit the next day

under a basement of dirt

My soul left on a grave unspoken,

taken by a little white rose

We are the forgotten , beaten, and broken