Styx

I’m holding you like broken glass
Inhaling you like smoke, alas
I’m soaking wounds in salt
“It’s all my fault”
I say in chokes and gasps
And all the while holding fast
Though why I never to know

I cling to you like rusted nails
My palms and fingers cut, impaled
Then dipped in kerosene
“I’m too unclean”
I scream and clutch to hell
But dream of you so much I fail
To fight the death below

I clutch you like a swarm of bees
My blood on fire, organs seize
Then into waters cast
“I’ll never last”
My voice a storm of pleas
And still, for you, I’m on my knees
My cries, regrets bestow

I need you like the blood I lost
When I decided “fuck the cost”
And sold my broken soul
“Just make me whole”
I said, “I’d gladly cross
Through glass and nails and bees and frost
To try to let you go…”

Arrow

Once I sent a letter forth
With lyrics penned of what was then
To be, within the darker times, a torch

Sailing, did it fly and far
With litanies of written pleas
“Ameliorate the wounds that nightly mar”

Later still a bird returned
A note it held, and hope, it swelled
Within where once uncertainty had burned

The letter opened, merely read
“Your chosen mark – it was my heart
And by the time you read this, I’ll be dead”

 

Portrait

I tried to paint a picture of your face
Looking at a portrait
That you gave me long ago
It’s the one I couldn’t forfeit
Never could I let it go
It just seemed far too important
Though I never let it show
But in time, your perfect features were erased

And now I’m looking at this drying paint
Staring at the person
On the canvas that I made
Feeling terribly uncertain
Did I accidentally trade
Your perfection for a version
Now imperfectly displayed
Like an angel relegated down to quaint?

I analyze the colors critically
Were your eyes sapphire
Or a gentle morning sky
Were they vivid, soft, or tired?
Were they bold or were they shy?
Did they hold a holy fire
Or the reason lovers die?
Were they truer, deeper, bluer than the sea?

And what about your kindness and your grace?
The glow of your complexion
And the color of your lips
Every newly made correction
Takes you farther from my grip
Every stroke the wrong direction
Yet I cannot seem to quit
Because the picture that was you I can’t replace

Forever

What I’d give to hold your hand
And pause the hourglass’s sand
To leave my water for your land
Forever and again

A word, a whisper, and a song
A sonnet short and poem long
A smile meek, a promise strong
That never I’ll rescind

A flower, garden, and a field
My steady sword and even shield
My beating heart, so iron-willed
That e’er you can depend

My fading hope and dying breath
Whatever innocence is left
And every breath that’s in my chest
Forever and again

Ullage

Hands that held a halo halted
Handing it to me with harrowed heart
Hardened by the hollowness exalted
By the heavens heralded to hark

With their woven whispers winding
Whither then to wander, else to wear
Where the whipping winds were weary, binding
Woes and withered wonders to your wares

Tracing tumult through the trials
Toughened by the turbulence and tears
Trailing tired touches of denials
Tainted by temerity and fears

Umbral tidings undulating
Until all the urges were a ledge
Utterly unknown and understating
You who understood your own ullage


I was tasked with writing a poem that used alliteration and given the word prompt: ullage
This is what I came up with.