While you were out

A kind word cupped in my hand like a wounded sparrow.
Its wing, contorted and bent like these preconceptions.
Without you, I move much too much at random.
Wondering what lies beyond those windowpanes.
Beyond the chasm that stretches in my mind.
I wonder where you’ll find me.
Dressed in my finery, like a made up lush.
Hoping for a dance.
Slathering my lips the darkest shade.
Horribly limited by my circumstance.
I count the colours that separate us now.
A warming tangerine smile that mocks and devours me.
With sharpened teeth I ready myself for the assault.
A swift attack on the loneliness that engulfs my saturated mind.
Soggy and heavy, absorbed of the dark walls that creep into my eyes.
As the scene rattles into view, I wake once more.
Peeled and unravelled, with the juice of reality staining my lips.

Amazing shadows

Blink the dark and silence the nightingale.
Two turns on that apology.
Cut the veins of the ghosts and watch them bleed.
Where did you go?
What is that running down your face?
Claustrophobic thoughts of freedom.
Suffocate lungs all drenched in oil.
Such luminous reflections tiptoe across your eyes.
We measure the umbrage that dapples our fears.
From the tree we wish to burn.
Amazing shadows, holding hands into tomorrow.
Making us strangers again.

Chasing shadows

And they came in the night.
Dripping off of nightmares and fears carved in rock.
Slithered out from under my tongue.
They cracked your vertebrae and dusted our world with the pieces.
Those shadows of things.
Unspoken ideas that click and tumble around your skull.
The world unhooked the latch, and blocked out the stars.
Heaved into a silent supernova which bubbled in my soul.
Flick the charcoal from your fingertips.
Smear my brain with the sooty powder of the shadow you inhaled.
The yokey adjuster that they installed in our eyelids.
Click and turn like a wheel of bones.
Yet they drape our world in festive garbs of black.
Cutting velvet cakes in half, filled with dark oily dirt.
Escaping the shadows, cupping them like butterflies in your hand.
You may feel safe, but it doesn’t make it so. The shadows know.
They feed off us, the plentiful.
Like wedding guests at a buffet.
Greedily feeding and flashing false smiles.
Letting the wolves in the backdoor.
Staining shadows.
Stealing honey from the moon.