bad-vibe

Brittle boned and berry skinned, a beauty born, meant for sin, Divine ambiguity brandished beneath an auburn blush, the Queen of Hearts in her Royal Flush

In the fire hearth of my log cabin heart, I confront her, she that resides inside, yearning, bursting at the seams with the sudden ebb and flow of passion crashing liquid gold across the rocks she hides in the recedes among cattails and lemon balm leaves, revealing herself, masked cleverly beneath my skin, these alabaster eyes, she twists and writhes like the hands of fate, kept carefully in her cage.

Confetti Confetti falling from a silver sky, a river running dry, we are the dancers in a masquerade gone awry. A clever disguise to hide our newborn cries with shatters beneath the curtains of night. Alone are we who don these lies, feathered masks molten to our makeshift eyes, so never again should we see a flame burning bright, an escaped birthday balloon floating on high, meant to dream or a someday, confetti falling from a midnight sky.

Super Shoes Every step was a firework, a magic show emanating from my feet, Like the second star to the right, A group of fairies were dancing just for me. Between the paten leather, the glittering image of my favourite cartoon character, was my fashion show, a special sparkle turning me from second-grader to playground superhero. They set the ground beneath me on fire, lit up my world, only two blocks wide, like a Times Square Christmas tree. Every step was a concert stage, a shining marquis with my name in those lights. I'd become a star, walking the halls with pride, head held high, a certain sprin

I try to scrub away my guilt, my hatred, my depression, with bleach, with formaldehyde, with chemicals burning my skin, turning it pink, turning the record over, turning me into something new, a strange being staring back at me, staring me down, staring into my depths, taking me to a new form, taking all I have, taking it for granted, as I wash the stains of decades, wash them down the drain, wash it all away.  

she wanders the gardens with the tranquility of a child too old for her age, the locks of her satin hair cascading, dancing like the silver rush, the glistening teardrops of a waterfall, the dripping, tumbling light casting tarnished shadows beneath the poplars, caressing the delicate figure dawn has shown.

Reflections                It had been a frigid December night some twenty years ago. I trudged my way through the streets, my feet sinking with every step into the miniature tundra around my ankles. I reassured my self that the cottage couldn't have been much farther away, pulling my collar up around my cheeks to block the wind. I finally approached the house, the stream of laughter and warm flicker of lights filtering melodically to the walkway. As I neared the doorway, I was surprised to find that it was opened prior to my reaching it.                "Sammy-boy!" cried the young woman inside, her bright smile matching the kindness in h

Laying in the lush summer grass, grape vines tangled in her once velvet locks, she whispers the melodic mantra of a long forgotten prayer, her eyes flooded with the tragedies she bears alone keeping the pieces together, the events that burnt the edges of her diary, sprawling pages screaming the sardonic symphony of her once beloved eloquence. Her cheeks pink,   scattered with dark freckles like the shattered panes of once great cathedrals. The young face bereft of emotion, of everything that had once mattered. Her pale fingers dancing their languished game, she is drenched, consumed by an unfathom