Act 1: Reckoning
Vinyl burns February skin.
A sticky valentine.
Handprint heat echoes
on cracked windows.
Your breath--
half prayer,
half epitaph.
Demons of the night
Dressed like angels,
......
Two doors open—
one flat on a sandy hill,
mine beneath a flickering light,
like a dying eye.
We step through,
and the tearing begins—
the skin of the world,
the brittle edge that held us in,
and kept us apart.
......
Every time I think of you my hands began to shake.
My knees begin to wobble and my head begins to ache.
You caused me nothing but trouble and I often wondered why.
I was good to you and I loved you so. You were the apple of my eye.
It started on the afternoon of the 23rd of May.
You were dating a boy named Anderson
but your game he couldn’t play.
Then when you saw me you fell in love
and you still love me today.
......
So much loving and caring
He appears in the lights
Of his honorable and civilized life
But acts otherwise
In the dead deserted nights.
In darkness of artificial glamor
He turns into ruthless rustic,
Utterly abusive and deadly scary
Brandishing his muscled power forcibly.
......
Stick's and stones may break my bones,
But it's the words that make me cry
Will things get better?
Is hope the stick's and stones,
Or the words that make my cry
Act 1: Reckoning
Vinyl burns February skin.
A sticky valentine.
Handprint heat echoes
on cracked windows.
Your breath--
half prayer,
half epitaph.
Demons of the night
Dressed like angels,
......
Two doors open—
one flat on a sandy hill,
mine beneath a flickering light,
like a dying eye.
We step through,
and the tearing begins—
the skin of the world,
the brittle edge that held us in,
and kept us apart.
......
Bonds aren't easy to weave,
Trust, love, and balance, they believe.
A delicate thread, carefully spun,
Once formed, let it be truly won.
Strong ties aren't built overnight,
They need patience, shining bright.
Doubt's a shadow, dark and deep,
Can shatter the bond in its sleep.
......
I think I started forgetting you
on a Wednesday afternoon,
somewhere between folding laundry
and listening to the rain tap the window.
It didn’t hurt,
not at first.
Just a small,
unnoticeable shift in the weather.
You were never mine.
......
Dew doth drop with gentle hue,
On petals tinged a bashful blue,
As bees swoon to swollen pollen;
I crave back that view to fall in;
‘Tis you, ‘tis you.
As sea kisses the night sky,
Before day doth due the two goodbye,
I lie; a rock on thine tender shore;
And beg thou to crash upon forever more.
......