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Edges

You pulled up old edges with new, sharpened sticks
And overlooked hours for much smaller clicks
Where gears were still moving, you saw them as fixed
Where signals were certain, you saw them as mixed

You tugged at these stitches with scissors made dull
And overlooked virtues for reasons to cull
When hearts offered plenty, you looked in my skull
Where words had a value, you took them as null

You poked at the scabs with the tip of your nail
And overlooked triumph for ways it could fail
Where songs I was singing, you heard a wale
Where signs were the clearest, you covered your trail

You cut through old tissue with scalpels of rust
And overlooked honest for signs of distrust
Where love could’ve been, you reduced it to lust
When words that we had, we no longer discussed

Bade

Defend yourself with silence
Use averted eyes as armor
Use disconsolation as your holy blade

So even as my eyes wince
At the phantom pains of harm you’re
Left as echoes of the song you slowly played

Append the words with droplets
Putting points above your commas
Til continuation meets a growing pause

Til lines that offered couplets
Turned to null each new nirvana
Where your vines of gray were white when sowing laws

Ascend your self-defiance
As your hurt denies the karma
Of the wants that never were so wholly made

As I, in cold compliance
Rest inside the hollow arms of
The imaginary love you coldly bade

Bury

I did just what you told me
And I buried all the bones
Beneath the gravel and the dirt
I dug and dug until it hurt
I threw them in, and left them coldly;
Walked away alone

I did as you requested
And I hid the evidence
I burned the messages we shared
I burned them all, not one I spared
And swore, “From this, I’ve since divested”
Words of mere pretense

I did what you required
And I cleared the old debris
I scrubbed away the drying blood
And any word that spoke of love
I tossed it all into a fire
Where you couldn’t see

I did what needed doing
And I buried my concern
I dug a grave and tossed inside
The moment when my smile died
I killed the us I’d been pursuing
Chose to let it burn

Saved

We trapped our words in metaphors
Like cellars under metal floors
And thus we scoured
Oft for hours
Plucking, carelessly, the flowers
Asking, “What are petals for?”

We painted sighs in shades of blue
Like summer skies in graves of dew
And looked for woes to
Seek and go through
Disappeared, the words, “I know you”
Like the heart I gave to you

We crafted cradles made to fail
As huts of straw beneath the hail
And thus we cowered
Hopes devoured
Seeing sweetness slowly soured
Asking, “How can we prevail?”

We made our peace in silent war
Like melodies we, violent, tore
From passive yearnings
Wounds of learning
Fires fed with letters burning
Glass we used to bind the sore

We hid our fear in faces brave
Like flowers placed on nameless graves
And mourned the meeting
Sweet, but fleeting
Eyes prepared for frigid greetings
Lips afraid to say, “We can’t be saved”

Exit

I wonder if you’d see me in a crowd
…Would it be allowed
Or would your eyes create a shroud
Til I’m invisible to you
A bit of static coursing through
You cannot hear beneath your voice so very proud

I wonder if you’d see and look away
…Would it be okay
Or would your sentence see delay
A minor stumble on a word
You truly hope nobody heard
And if it happened, would I leave or would I stay?

I wonder if you hope to see me there
…With coffee in a chair
The urge to tell you that I care
But too afraid to even rise
And hope to look you in the eyes
And say your name, and then goodbye, with such despair

I wonder if I’d the see the you I knew
…The vivid eyes of blue
An aura drawing me to you
Or would I only see a face
I knew, but in another place
And merely nod in recognition and depart without so much as an adieu

Meleager

Lost was I
In caustic tides
My very boat, a coffin – ides
Of spring became the offered lie
I chose to cling
For those who sing
Their siren song of chosen kings
Would often plie
With loss and lie
And see me simply tossed aside to swing

Within a noose
Of thin abuse
As if a neck, so any use
Was lost as oft as any truce
For every cost
I came across
Was little more than shame and dross
Upon a puce
Lament of views
Where all I seem equipped to choose is loss

From gentle hands
That bent demands
As often as they swept the sands
Atop a grave where missives swam
For what they gave
Was but a cave
But never light for that would save
So there I stand
To thus remand
And wander with this fading brand enslaved