Tasting the warm breath.
Tickling the skin beneath.
God kissing you into death.
Taken, over thirty times the moon dying.
Thirty-one suns burning into your eyes.
I’ll be your winter.
Chilling the bones that crumble and collapse.
And I’ll always be yours.
Silently, as the bird inside stops beating.
Suddenly, only feathers and space.
Little wounded wing.
You never knew how dangerous it could be.
Flying through life as you were.
Hoping others, like you, wanted to sing.
Little spark of light.
No one told you how maddening it would be.
Existing how you are, so special.
The rules never showed you how to fight.
Life it took a hold and stained.
Into your feathers and soul it pained,
you to see how this world really was, behind the lies.
Through maligned and deceitful eyes.
After wandering your many trails, deserving of fairness and love.
The world is dark and mattered.
Cruel and harsh and tattered.
To a creature who sees the good in everyone from above.
Little broken heart.
We all told you how not to cry.
No one cares for water spent.
The gulf between us now so far apart.
Hey little dying bird.
You told yourself in the end.
The only thing that was missing, was love.
And love was the only thing they no longer heard.
Through painted eyes I see your heart.
Overflowing, submerged in milk and honey.
In that kiss, I feel the tenderness.
Which my soul has yearned for.
But like a pebble in my shoe.
A reminder remains.
That stain on my heart will never fade.
And those mistakes I will keep in the back of mind.
Reaching for you as earth says its goodbye.
What is this thing that takes flight.
Soaring through uncharted and terror drenched clouds.
As I look for monsters out the window.
If this plane were to fall from the sky.
Tear into the ground.
This thing wrapped in meaning.
Would it leave a hole in my heart?
Would it turn me to dust?
A fallen bird needing to fly, this thing called love.
Weighted, not by gravity.
Or the tear that hangs like lead on a golden cheek.
But pulled and suffocated by a lack of understanding.
A love you swept underneath those neatly placed rugs.
Pushed me to the back pages of the book you barely read.
Maddening words and itchy eyes.
The scratch on your heart you cannot itch.
You replace my thoughts, pull them away like calendar days.
Leaving me wandering in a limbo with ghosts as friends.
Familiar now, to those empty souls.
Who roam and moan in a void you will not listen to.
But the love is there, I saw it fly like a sparrow into your ribs.
It flutters madly, though you clipped its wings.
Locking it away, with your tiny golden key; kept under your tongue.
Behind all the masks on your face.
A world now sees only callousness and indifference.
But you are so different.
Underneath.
There is no flesh upon your bones.
Such rays of moonlight only dazzle the naked blood.
You drift through me like a ghost.
Swallowing hungry souls.
The waters relent.
Heaven subsides.
And though all around hold their breath.
Inside the caged bird dies.
Into your eyes my fate remains.
Locked into that shifting ice.
Beautiful time trapped in glass.
Catching the light in amber eyes.
Hunted while you wait.
A bird in your paw.
Blood on your tongue.
The bones already in your stomach.
As the snow covers your tracks, the love leaked out, marking where we once were. Leaving the trail for others to know our fate, and to never come this way where the wolves are at play.
Tomorrow drips in it’s yokey gold.
Offering the treasure of yet to be.
A sparkling beauty of opportunity.
Casting minds back into the dark.
Searching for answers in the rooms of yesterday.
Taking time to pray.
Asking God to push us onwards.
Into the light.
Into the storm.
Too long have I sat waiting for the world to split open.
To flower and bloom like spring.
For the great wings of fate to fly.
Catching me as I fall to climb.
Yet all there really is, is now.
The tear on your face.
The laughter in your eyes.
Each moment a prize.
That should be savoured in the moment.
For time yet to be and been and gone.
Is just another setting sun.
LITTLE WOUNDED WING
Little wounded wing.
You never knew how dangerous it could be.
Flying through life as you were.
Hoping others, like you, wanted to sing.
Little spark of light.
No one told you how maddening it would be.
Existing how you are, so special.
The rules never showed you how to fight.
Life it took a hold and stained.
Into your feathers and soul it pained,
you to see what this world really was behind the lies.
Through maligned and deceitful eyes.
After wandering your many trails, deserving of fairness and love.
The world is dark and mattered.
Cruel and harsh and tattered.
To a creature who sees the good in everyone from above
Little broken heart.
We all told you how not to cry.
No one cares for water spent.
The gulf between us now so far apart.
Hey little dying bird.
You told yourself in the end.
The only thing that was missing, was love.
And love was the only thing they no longer heard.
Bind my heart, break my bones.
Sneak in when the lights are off.
When my guard is down.
Snap my soul and slip inside.
Overwhelm and consume me like heroin.
The addict in me pulls you near.
Breathe me in, suck me out.
Spun up in your mind like a crystal chandelier.
Precarious precious beauty.
Your hands on my innocence.
Pulling me down, knocking me over.
Teaching me how to fly.
Beneath the truth, that sets you free.
Lies a fragile world of intimacy.
That falls and climbs like a startled bird.
It’s talked about, but never heard.
For at its heart, is a hidden gold.
Where secrets die, and the truth is told.
And where that bird of love can fly.
A connection of trust that lives and thrives.
Havoc and Consequence 