Worlds of Ink

to make a world
from a thought
a dream, a vision
from nothing, anything
give it form
lives, histories
pasts, futures
faces, voices
houses, forests
stars and planets

a universe
born of nothing
made of ink

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Limbo

Caged
Again
soul taken away
siphoned off
before I could
even remember
what it was like
to have one

 

Stolen
Drained away
this cursed monolith
of human shape
always shadowing
even when far away
now again, after
I had found my soul

 

Devil
who looks when looking away
eats souls
in exchange for life
while spewing
hexed words
to taint all hearts
under his shadow

 

Locked away
in a certain Limbo
beneath the dark
grip which needs
it for its nourishment
its own salvation
keeps me again
but not much longer

 

Hope,
An Opening
I’ll fly away
when the key turns
and the door opens
he will watch
as I leave
while I never
look back

 

to Throw Away
all I have known
shadows rooted in my heart
wrenched out
light switched on
against my darkened eyes
it hurts
but thankfully
But only at first.

 


Something weird was going on with spacing on WordPress, so someone please tell me if there’s too much space or weird html showing up because things aren’t adding up on my side. X(

Bulletproof Glass

Words hang between
us like glass
about to shatter
Once touched
they fall
flat, a din
sad sound
with an edge
thick
in the throat.

I heard crying
but felt nothing
I feigned sleep.
It’s not my place
any longer.

It’s nice
to read back
over old stories
but your chapters
are over
and I’m writing new ones
without you.

The cracks
you made
are gone
from my skin
and now I
am bulletproof.

I would put my mother in a snow globe

I would put my mother in a snow globe
where time stands still
safely tucked
far away from the world
up in a tower
in a castle
frozen in liquid
under glitter-snow
safe away from things
So she would stay
the same
as she’s always been
who I thought she was
when I was younger.

Mothers are supposed to be
smiles
and hugs
comfort
a shelter
from the storms of life

But
mine became a monster
I want to trap
and cage to keep
as an example
of what a mother shouldn’t
look like.
I want to keep her
away from
the things that turn her
into this creature
with the familiar face.

I would keep her in a snow globe
safe inside
a glass prison
perfect and beautiful
under the glitter-snow
where nothing can touch her
taint her even more
where she can heal
and where
she can’t touch others
as the creature she now is.

People are Lucky

People are so lucky.
they don’t realize
what precious things they have
surrounding them. they’re happy
but all good things
always get taken
for granted by those
who have the privilege
whether they love
or hate the things they have.

Some of them are
fake happy smiles
hollow words of love
idle complaints about nothing
complaining about
these riches they possess
the people they love.
These people don’t realize
what precious treasures
they have between them.
It sickens me. I am envious.
It’s a waste.
I would not take
such happiness for granted.

Those commercials on TV
about medicine, vacuums
life insurance. with the happy music.
They break me down
into a waterfall.
Children laughing, crying,
holding onto their mothers shirt
baby bottles, tiny hands
enveloped by a fathers strong fingers.
Two people
a tiny treasure between them
I have to look away.
Happy Families:
my own little trauma trigger.

The museum has a display:
fetal tadpole darlings
floating frozen, ghosts in glass.
A black and white room
of tiny dead babies.
The Development of a Human Zygote
it used to fascinate me
but now
those dead darlings hang
like bodies on a gallows
strung up for the wide eyed crows.
Nightmare fuel.
I can’t go into that room anymore.

This poem makes me shake
to write. but with tears
like a cold river washing
through me. the words cleanse
my poor broken heart
and take the pieces far away…

People are so lucky.
They have treasures all around them.
instead of nightmares. Ghost faces
in the dark corners of a room. Staring
dead hopes haunting my shoulders.
They don’t realize how lucky they are.