A question

Why does it hurt when flowers spring into bloom?
Why does it hurt to open up, leave your soul on show?
The sting that bleeds, drop by drop
your life runs out of...
life?
what is a life....?

ask yourself, and feel the sting yourself

Unbalanced

The scale of life is out of balance...

no challenge posed,

and I'm "dead"...

I exist through flame,

through me,

through who I am,

and maybe was.

Do you see?

Recognition

You hold my heart

and bring me peace

of mind,

of soul.

Flowers of the present blooms,

despite the devastating cold,

without the sting

of yesterday.

Breath,

inhale

exhale

and dream.

Fingertips meet,

recognize

and part themselves,

just to seek again.

One heartbeat

and then...

your answer

Beat ye drums

You hear the drums in the distance,
whirring, rumbling.
"Don't you come here" you pray
silent,
and cross every nerve
of your entire being,
like a reassuring gesture
on your own.

They still beat, beat
louder every time.
Air vibrate, shiver
unstoppable force.

Soon they will be here
with all their strenght
and terrible glory.
Ye be warned!

Transform

Sitting by the window

waiting

dreaming

planning

a life beyond its limits

The soft rain turns into a storm,

a fight of mind and heart.

No winner can be chosen

in the fierce battle of life.

Everlasting seconds,

almost stopping,

but defies its scrupulous plan.

Reflect yourself in the deepest pond

of memories

and breath...

Transparent

Writing on the glass,
inverted,
helpless.
Fades away,
clinging to a reality you never knew.
The marked in the heart and soul,
missing pieces in a deformed image.
Past and future
joint together in the moment.
A deadly marriage.

Used

Lying in the gutter,
were you when they left you.
Not for life,
but for the bitter grip of death.
Your dress torn,
lassitude eyes filled with tears,
born of shame
and the desire to die.
You draw your breath frantic,
want control
and past.
Impossible now,
life relentlessly picked by a frozen hand