Tag: melancholia

  • new moon skies

    it's easy to believe
    all the pretty little lies
    we whisper to our heart
    under cover of dark
    under the new moon skies

  • brokework

    he mad dog barked at
    walls drawing down
    he jaw chomped hard
    at cage and at leash

    with hatpin hands
    and neck rust screech
    a brokework heart
    and tinsel teeth

    dragging behind loathing
    in razor wire, unsure
    which self to throw
    to mists from peak

  • hollows

    I am gnawing at black ice, waiting to become real while taking in all obsidian and injecting it in my veins. I would offer you a taste, but I can already see your shard eyes speak and say, “Oh, I had planned to offer you mine.” I would not want your generosity to go to waste. So I gnaw.

    Sure sure, I’ll be paid in token for my taking — coin coming in kisses melting on the wind. Scant warmth, that. But enough heat for a haint, when we black ice gnaw the typic nights, I expect.

    My twin blind eyes haze over when I look to the east. Hollows, I say to none… There is no Avalon.

  • horror story

    the horror is not being in
    the thrall of a leannán sídhe

    the horror is being not in
    the thrall of a leannán sídhe

    wraith wanderings,
    stoney moors on the
    crisp & hollow

  • briar tangled between

    Photo by Justin Wilkens on Unsplash
    all that is owned is empty or
    flaking rust from dull razors
    drawing ley from
    rope raw wrist to
    hangman's etching,
    all briar tangled between

  • one breath &

    ache on more mantic &
    less onto dreaming
    hand pat knee thigh
    tears eye entwine
    a dollar thin love
    cut from small bones 
    touch a tear to tongue
    & linger nectar sweet...

    something stolen in
    that silence between
    one breath & the next

  • ossuary

    dry rot these bones mine
    stolen blind from the pile
    etched & inked in
    india & cinnabar to bleeding
    to carve away all dreaming
    to flint shave all song

    a withered heart on
    an ashen altar 
    waiting for a glint
    of flame

  • jigsaw daze

    my madness song at
    yellow paper tigers
    stretching from walls
    i arm claw trying
    to find a way out
    all the while
    grinding glass teeth
    & chewing at tinsel

    i have earned my way
    to straw dog state &
    mantic ghosts of that
    neverpast & nevermore, sing:
    shake shake shake dog shake

    an ugly break at mirrors
    in these jigsaw daze
    no one could know
    there would be
    so much
    blood

  • mantra

    ...michael don't dream
    michael don't dream
    michael don't dream
    michael don't dream
    michael don't dream....

  • Twilight aching

    Photo by Cornelia Munteanu on Unsplash

    She covers me in twilight aching, as filtered by summer leaves. Shadowed within shadows gloaming slips down, descends, pours over me.

    Blind to consequence, she moves through the weald seamless, with feet drifting on wraith. A kiss on my grey lips passing, breath crisp to the taste and pale fingers linger mists on cheek before she wisps away.

    I am wicker-bound by convention though the distance moves well beyond time.

    Flint for my eyes, sharp, though always blind I must be. They scrimshawed my bones to mask the words from me. Lips set to suture, to trap my voice to me.

    Waiting on the fires, mists’ kiss watching, twilight aching over me.