alienhunny

The snowflakes give up their ghosts with grace, with an aging worthy of jealousy. Their path from the clouds is lucid and supple and not the incoherent avenue that these wasted eyes travel. They find their End on the cold glass- It is a death of distinctive wet translucence, more endearing than anyone could aspire to. With this moist transience, with this sheer complaint passing, The snowflakes relinquish their delicate forms, And I cannot help but envy their diaphanous departure.

There is no kindness owned, no favoured smile among our bareness and this bed. I will not pretend there ever was. I will not pretend that there is more between us than a tumbling, hollow space. Instead, I will return the pain that we exchange until I find a suitable place for its keeping. I am somewhere beneath the flash-point of life's demise, wandering away from soundness. I will not return.

Falling with dessicated leaves, I am shorn from the decay of past griefs. There will be some mutterings here in this earthen debris, but I am done exuding the juicy remnants (after-thoughts) of life. I will rest here quietly, without you knowing.

These last particles of you Should have left me by now But they cling tenaciously To the the old tweed coat You left behind. My eyes are rimmed in red And they are looking At the chilly grayness Of this Fall sky. I am shrugging in the cold, Struggling with these Flecks of you--- Tiny remnants of dishonesty and pain. In the alleyway The green-eyed stray Sits and wails For some kind of life to return.

Despondency has brought us to this mountain pass. It leaves us here and billows past, menancing gold leaves. Desolate as I am, Give me this remote place and make it mine. Disconsolate as we are, You could bleach my bones with just one smile. Ravage me to the four winds; Take me into your arms. In time all my impurities will mingle with the twigs and stars.

"To die is to sterilize, to remove from unproductive life," she mused in her analytical way. Well then, she really already was dead And the little lab-coated men would be long past due when they found her Just off the cement crust of the highway line, lying amid the brush. They were scientists, They were used to the bare facts— That would be all they would find: A darkened brown husk of former life, A sunken carcass of former cares. In her final moments she contemplated, composed the Coroner's Report--- FEMALE DECEASED; CEASED AND DESISTED, FAILED TO PERSIST, Maybe just too PIST. She laughed hoa

That Summer my Mother called me Anne of Rexia, Queen of the Damned, On account of the black clothes And the lost 15 pounds. "You look pitiful" she snarled. I snapped, "That's the point," I waited in vain for her sharp retort. That Summer the pastor called me a disaster And seemed to wait for me to repent As I sat on his gilded bench. "Are you tormented?"  he questioned. I replied, "As much as you." And in my head the dirge was momentarily masked When the white flag of his face fell to half mast.

The sky was serenely silver at dawn, As enormous and as comforting as the cold. I clasped the quilts, all three of them, and slid to the window. The greyness flowed through window slats, brought brightness to the darkness of my room, And offered a gentle shining into my world as you are prone to do. The tree branches, Though icy and barren, Stretched delicately into my mind, and tenderly dissipated any thoughts of gloom. I tucked the cheese and wine into my bag and snuck out to think of you.

I'll be leaving once I can breathe through the nausea that's trickling in with the roaches to the sticky spot on your rug. I know you want me out of here but my face is being crushed from the inside By images of this distorted ecstasy and the hallucinogenic craving that drew me in. Give me a moment to lift my head from under your saturnine gaze And I will collect my morality,   find my rings, and leave a few pieces of sloughed off glitter from the skirt you couldn't wait to discard. Next time I try to sabotage this impatient longing for affection with such fugitive, deteriorating pleasure Turn me away, won't yo