Tag: melancholia

  • 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.

  • neverseen

    spike pierced this
    pulsing gristle
    caged within my ribs
    i cannot stopheart
    this as i ought, nor
    severazor gossamer tethers
    untugging from afar

    all is ache and fugue
    while doves mourn their
    rose-scattered dreams
    in the sometime, i grew shattered
    everaining
    a wraith in neverseen

  • far gone seas

    Photo by Stephane Gagnon on Unsplash
    embracing aether tendril tugs
    while whispering my wishes
    back to me, offering
    drifts in calmer currents
    drifts off to far gone seas

    some days i dream of dying
    others, i know already that i have
    been dying for decades

    just a silver slip and falling
    her arms catch, on gentle wings
    to carry me, bringing
    drifts in calmer currents
    drifts off to far gone seas

  • unhere

    unhere
    for comfort
    for beauty —
    these sores weep
    rosegardens in rains
    stained in blood

    at the funeral they
    will look back laughing
    pushing pale lilies
    in a storm