by on


I was in my room shattered. I thought he loved me. I saw a vision of a life with a man who turned out to be a child. Not a boy but a child who ran away because he was terrified. He was scared of the word love. It became too real. He tarnished my soul. He took something away that I can’t put my finger on. I turned off the light and crawled underneath the covers. I couldn’t close my restless eyes. My world had crumbled. How can a man touch my skin the way he did and walk away? How can a man kiss these lips and walk away? It felt like I was on a roller coaster and I was no longer going up hill. It was all down hill and could feel the crashing of the silent wind echo. Although he may have thought he had broken me but as I said I’m shattered. It translates that I can pick up the pieces and put them back. No man will ever break me that I can’t get up.

by on

On the glass surface
A marriage was the mirage
Two Perfect jobs
He was the Industrial Engineer
She was the Professor

Dollars always filling pockets
Purchasing boats
Constantly traveling
Appearing to work late

Slowly becoming lonely
Innocent flirts
Grazing and rubs
Touching hands
Turned one night
into a deep sea of lust
I become a routine
I become fixated

His gambling debts get higher
Out of hand and order
I become a bank
I become demanding
Week after week
Month after month

A long delightful affair
They become distant
They become desperate
Seconds after seconds
Minutes after minutes
I become irritated
I become a wrecking machine

Hours after hours
Days after days
She pulls away
She wants to stop
Week after week
Month after month

Glass surface has a crack
Reality settles like dust
Clarity runs fast as light
He stops payments
He stops communicating

He attempts to be polite
I demand my money
I scream “I will tell her”
Sternly he stands
“You screwed my wife.”

You didn’t appreciate her
You didn’t love her
I gave her something
you couldn’t give
All night long

Gambling was your priority
Not your wife
Hands placed in pockets
Slowly walking away
“You owe me my money.”
“You fucked my wife.”

Leave us alone
“I may have fucked your wife
But you fucked with the
wrong person.”

by on

Brisk concrete
Tears don’t stop
Scared as Hell
Finally see eyes
Covered face
Dressed in black

Hands me a plate
With a thermos
Maybe there’s fluid
Dry throat
Watching my moves
Take a sip

Never have I appreciated
water so much
“Why a thermos?”
No response
Mountain of food
Pork chops, mash potatoes,
Macaroni and cheese,
Broccoli and cauliflower

Watching my moves
Shoveled and devoured
Removed the ski mask
“Do you remember me?”
Frozen in ice
Memory in a fog
“You are prettier than your Mom.”
A statement that made me ill
“Hope you aren’t dumb as your father.”
A statement that made me nausea

Face didn’t ring a bell
But the voice hit the red alarm
I knew it, I knew it
Vivid and clear
Trying to attach a name

“My great grandmother once lived here.”
Every word he spoke
Rattled my spine
Pinched a nerve
He knelt down
Looked into my eyes
Terrified and catatonic

“You will never leave here.”
My skin crawled with fright
“No one knows about
Blackout Hill.”
Tears flooded
“Nothing you receive
will be made of glass.
You can break it and
use it as a weapon.
I will always outsmart you
despite you being a “A” student.”

by on

I knew what time he left
I knew when she’d be sleeping
I knew what room she slept in
I knew she was a “A” student

And I knew too much

I knew she loved Shaw a lot
I knew his wife would be gone
I knew when she’d be back
I knew his wife used to dream about me

And I knew too much

I knew she use to want me
I knew every room in the house
I knew where his gun was
I knew that she didn’t love him anymore

And I knew too much

I knew he would never find her
I knew if I took her he wouldn’t suspect me
I knew it had been five years since we talked
I knew everything about him

And I knew too much

I knew everything about his family
I knew he had a gambling problem
I knew what he loved the most
I knew what he didn’t know

And I knew I owned him

by on

Never wake a panther
Never turn the screw
Never manipulate me
Never toy with my ego
Never sell myself short

Never will I lend you money
Never leave your daughter alone
Never leave your door open
Never leave your keys in the car
Never be so naive

Never talk behind my back
Never have sex with my wife
Never tell me where your gun is
Never show me the sharpest knife
Never show me your cards

Never spill the blood
Never turn your back on me
Never spread rumors
Never make a critical bet you can’t pay
Never disregard your debt

Never betray your best friend
Never doubt my words
Never cross my path
Never walk from my shadow
Never tell me your secrets

by on

Seconds passing
Minutes standing still
Speechless under the noise
Pitter patter of footsteps

A December day etched
Thirst and hunger clench
Six inches of snow
Slightly above ten degrees

Waiting for him to punish me
For something I don’t know
Trying to shape the pupils
Never thought I’d be in shackles

Darker and darker
Colder and colder
Starving and thirsty
What harm did I do to him

Constantly wondering
Wondering if I will wake up
Will I see tomorrow
Will I see the morning light

No sense of time
Will I see my boyfriend
Will I see my father
Will I ever see anyone

by on

Lonely park benches

Seeking warmth and comfort

Posted in a local newspaper

Ice Cream shops fizzle

Wanted signs hung

“Lover of 101 flavors”

Acoustic guitars scream at

5am pleading for a

dreamy love song or lullaby

on Leaping Hearts Avenue

of Northern France

Moonlights reflect on the

crying and moaning ocean

“I’m just full of water but

empty on the inside”

Without a vein blood can’t

rush to the aching heart

by on

Shivering thru the animosity
Like a dungeon with a stench
A fourteen inch rustic door
No remorse or guilt resides
Disappeared in the thick of the night
Tip toeing in the burning fog
Covering her tiny mouth
Eyes wide as tears flood in fear
Disturbed by her resentment
A creeping shadow stands callous

Locking her in the musky trunk
Mystic drive to Blackout Hill
A lost and unknown address
Between crumbled mountains
Surrounded by jagged and lonely trees
A splash of maroon stains
As she attempts to claw away
Carried like a new born baby
in a pitch black bag
Throwing her down like a sack

Gazing up at the scene
Fumbling thru the grudge
Licking a sense of familiarity
Slightly a recognizable face
Face peeks out of the hole
Replaying the anxiety
Cold sweat drips on her frigid skin
Confused in a cellar
Trapped in a vault
Laying on the frozen bedrock

by on

I once knew serenity as I nibbled on your earlobe. I once knew the sounds of waterfalls as you inhaled my existence. I once stood behind the shadows of affection as you stumbled in silence. I once saw the tormented mist in your gut wrenching eyes. I once fell madly in love with your naval and collarbone. I once knew the honey oozing off your tongue. I once knew the lilacs and daises shining under our secret garden. I once knew the meaning of love when I saw you blush. I once cared for your everlasting lightning soul. I once saw you seeking truth in the gravel. I once fell in love with your fireworks. All I can see is your tormented mist in the dark where we use to be close.

by on

A pile of ancient bricks

stack up against the closet door

A lemon yellow sun hasn’t

heard the shrieks behind

the desolate window

Vanishing clowns snicker

in the obscure corner

Fears subside and twinkle

In the witching hour

the scarecrow yells from

the depths of childhood memories

A ministry of skeptics

preach under the queen size bed

Reciting a sacred testament

of abuse and lacerations

Sobbing whispers live behind

the wretched closet door

Check out my books!

by on

The fables between us
Satirical metaphors prance
The ironies bleed pretty white lies
Sarcasm bursts like ejaculation
Covered in Satan’s thick liquid
Storybook pages stick together

The fables between us
Sardonic recitals
Recited by jesters and
Ponies dance in time while
His portal opens to swallow us all

Sadistic hymns
Written by gargoyles and
Unicorns prance in the clocks while
Her throat opens to consume the tale

Sadistic hymns
Hummed at Sunday Mass
Panic the court and
Constable is lighted aflame

Tarnished fairy tales
Scripted by euphoric lovers
Dripping sweat lingers in the air
Scent of religious perfume
Lurks between the satin sheets

Tarnished fairy tales
Playwrights
Tragedians
Star-crossed nothing
But sky
Moonlight paints you
Angel white and me
The daemon

Stonewashed dogma
Doctrines drenched in your spit
Undressed teachings
Relentlessly misinterpreted
Forgotten verses
Lyrics shredded
Constantly concaved
Staring into the phantasm
Sucked in by your gospel

Stonewashed dogma
Canon loaded
Peace be with you…

Kindra – Italics

Check out her blog if you haven’t! It’s always fun to collaborate with Kindra!

Braeden – Non Italics

by on

Gasping for grasping

At the end of the line

Spinning circles

At the end of the rope

Hearing not listening

At the end of the illusion

Unadaptable and difficult

At the end of the mirage

Impenetrable and brick

At the end of the delusion

Sucked in a vicious cycle

At the end of the fabrications

Never ending spiral

by on

I’m caught between syndromes and prescriptions. I’m slipping in the separation of loneliness and sadness. I have fallen in the hands of broken angels and laughing demons. I can feel the down pouring melancholy fill up the emptiness. I sulk in the fields of depression beside wishes and painted dreams. I’m sitting in the middle of insomnia and awakened tear drops. I watched the clown die on the inside. I stood on the outside of the circus and saw the crowd. I will always be on the outside looking in. I’m surrounded by beliefs and stuck in oppression. I’ve dug a grave in my creativity. I wear sensitivity on my sleeve. I can’t remove if I tried. I want a blanket of love that’s never been made. I seek a yearn that doesn’t exist. You will feel the craving when I’m gone. You will be on the inside finally looking in. The puzzle will be complete. I don’t belong on this earth. I want to lay beside Dylan Thomas and Allen Ginsberg. Read between the lines.

by on

Constantly disoriented

frozen whispers speak to me

A deep hunger

to be understood

An appetite

to be stirred by intimacy

No one cares

No one shows it

Efforts are fallen between

the cracks

No one hears me

No one listens

Distorted perception wakens

This is my canvas

Only a writer, a poet,

will gravitate to my words

To everyone else

I am not here

by on

No verses can disguise

the barbwire truth

Furious on the inside

Depression settles like dust

A intact plan merges

Ignoring my needs

Methodical and analytical

Reread the chorus

Every day was an opportunity

you threw away to show me

Nothing will prepare you

for what I’m about to do….

by on

Staring into the

desolate snow globe

watching my brittle

tears howl from the chair

Craving novacane for

my anorexic heart

Gravitating to the infection

that is soaking to

my sensitive past

Refusing to retrace

my footsteps of

Chestnut street

Tangled ghosts weave

through out my

strewed mind

Only to see a glimpse

of a debilitating disease

Concentrating on the

disappearing inner tyke

Becoming a nomad within

Placing my hands in my

ragged and faded jeans

trying to capture the light

of playing hopscotch

No matter how many times

I seek the clarity and purity

of my jagged youth

Chestnut Street is just a sign

on a ten foot pole

*Laurel has asked me to use this street name for the Challenge.

by on

The stench will never disappear. I sit here in agony replaying the years in my head. I stare into the pitch black and contemplating the decisions that I have made in my colorful life. I was a jester. I have discarded all the useful cards in the deck only leaving myself with only a few to hold in my tired hands. I steer away from the root. I run away from the tears that refuse to see the sun. I was the fool in believing in the word forever. You took me for granted. I took you for granted. You didn’t have the ability to own up in your own mistakes. You chose to be stagnant. I thought I was the infant in this relationship. I took my vows seriously. My heart is full of mush, layers of sensitivity, and the cream you find in the center of a donut. I wanted more. I craved depth. I took responsibility of my actions. I stumbled away shapeless seeking the truth. I am a lost soul. All I can see is a twinkling light. I will find my way out. If there is one thing I do well it’s being persistent. Nobody will tell me I can’t do something.

by on

Exchanging blows

Trouncing the integrity

Parading with clout

Testifying with a punch

Ruthless and cold

Clobbering with animosity

Losing perspective

Gaining self worth

Sitting on a Island

without a blanket of protection

Circling apathy

with loneliness on a death bed

Persecuting myself

Questioning my beliefs

Constantly defending my being

Slowly giving up to society’s views