beastly

the republic tigers are coming
prowling son, intimate at your heels,
like the wind rushes at your back,
pushing you forward before it kills.

and the nerve of these beasts!

like the Grimm villains they are,

holding the taste of poison in apples

blooming like the seeds of the core.

the lions are coming,  oh here they come,

the lions are coming. 

so say you will take a drop,
fall in waterfalls when prayers fell you
take the sky and turn to the moon
water's deep, so plunge in soon.

i remember when your veins poured

black blood like the river at mid noon

take a shot, and call the time of death,

before you try to save me too.

the tigers are coming. oh here they come.

-

i don't know what this is about. and I don't really like it. maybe what i meant to write will come back to me and I can edit this into something decent. 

letters I

i like how i talk about all the things you need.
how much you want to succeed.
how much you're in pain indeed.
do you ever, think about
the times i've been all out
in trying to make you see
how much more you could be?
you can change everything i say
into a mess of a mistake
like i'm unfeeling
like i'm just too fake.
and now, tired of all your ways
of making me walk away
and somehow,
all that ends up happening
is i'm all alone in between
the best and the worsening.
you always think hurting me
is the best way to push me aside.
then recoil when you want to be
the girl who's by your side.
so, like im held in string,
waiting for you to come and ring,
now i wait and write letters,
for the person i thought
could make all wrongs better,
letters you will never read,
words that will never show,
how you can take the lead
and make us better than before.
and on the inside, i dwell,
and think oh my, oh my,
this just cant end well.

pocket of snow.

pockets full of snow,

hands cold as i tuck them in.

and in propinquity, i imagine:

that in all the moments left,

so quiet, with nothing to show,

so motionless, we are snow:

falling, from outreached heights

where all we thought was,

oh, how, like air, we are light.

and like a forest of trees, 

we are too tall to see the 

ground beneath our fallen knees.