Poetry

Death Game

Cigarettes on a Sunday night

I watch as the small hand slowly touches nine

Poker chips spread across the warm pine table

Gambling with our secrets on the line

Lately, in my deepest sleep

I hear the Grim Reaper whisper my name

When I wake up, I see your familiar face

And I am along for your death game

We sneak into the mansion on Charlotte Road

We tiptoe down the dark and dust covered halls

Feeling the hollow breeze of the scarlet ghosts

Two lovers and a death wish touch the papered walls

Lately, in my dreams

I hear you whisper my name

When I wake up, I am in your embrace

And I am along for your death game

Let’s make a deal

I think I get the appeal

When you bat your eyes so softy at me

I lose all sight of what is real

I want to know how you feel

Teach me your death game

Two Birds

Two birds sitting in a black wood

A quarter of an inch away

Resting in the silence of the dusk

On a branch of a bigleaf maple tree

The moon rises over the black wood

Shining on the sliver of distance between them

They rest in the silence of the silver

Two birds rest in each others company

Time is so precious

I wake up to tear stains on my pillow

At midnight in June

Time is so precious

Like dew in the dunes

The memory of you is stuck on my body

Like a faded tattoo

You are so precious

With your baby blues

The tear drops from a pixie

Could seep in, healing all my deepest wounds

Life is so precious

When love starts to bloom

You have always know my weakness

I’m lost in a book that’s overdue

Time is so precious

When it is spent with you

I’d steal the sun

To go back to when I had you

Time is so precious

When I have you.

The Vain

You only shine in your own vainglory

How dare you pin down an angel’s wings?

You strip the honesty from the purest soul

And you disguise it as your own integrity.

The pain of others is not your own

to turn into gold and become rich.

Girly Things

Co-written by Sarah Aguirre.

I hate,

When I don’t feel welcomed by my body anymore

I feel,

Unwelcome presence sneaking in and slamming doors

I break,

When I don’t hear the angel’s voice I heard before

I hate. I hate. I hate.

They love,

When I dress all provocative in the dark lights

They love,

When I don’t speak, or eat, or show that I am alive

They love,

Pushing me to the ground and waiting for me to start a fight

They love. They love. They love.

Every time I walk outside I can’t breathe

They stare, they pick, they wipe my pride clean

But that’s just girly things.

I hate,

Killing my inner child with the blade they gave me

I hate,

Trapping myself inside of my intrusive [psychotic] dreams

I hate,

Tuning into my mind to hear deafening screams.

I hate. I hate. I hate.

Everytime I walk outside I can’t breathe

They stare, they pick, they suffocate me

That’s just girly things.