There Will Always be Monsters

Mirror_IllustrationYour feelings don’t matter. Not how you feel, and not how you were stung.

The world doesn’t care what happened in your past, or where you’ve come from. Life moves on. “This offended me,” you said, and so you were offended. What does that mean?

When the art stares at you and holds a mirror to those nasty little things you refuse to look at, there’s no point in cursing the mirror or the holder. Your problems are within.

Perhaps you are scarred from something in the past.

There will always be thorns. Always be things that reach out their limbs and draw blood with their talons. And if your mind resides in any place akin to the real world, there will always be monsters.

Continue reading “There Will Always be Monsters”

Worms

There have always been holes in my carpet—

Holes from the worms in my shoe.

There are holes in the table cloth, sheets, and the curtains—

Holes where they’ve all eaten through.

 

Holes in her wedding dress,

Holes in my suit—

Which I won’t ever look at again.

Holes in the deed

That we bought for this house—

Me and my dear Julienne.

 

The holes in the carpet expand after dusk,

And I watched from my bed as they grew

They eat at the plaster, but worse is my heart

The worms, they are eating that too.

 

I won’t know what she said

As we lay here in bed.

Her hair does not shine its bright gold.

The worms eat her skin

As they slither right in

And leave holes in the patches of mold.


Dead in the Attic is on its way. How do you feel about including rhyming poems like this one? Or should I just stick to free verse? Let me know what you think, and sweet dreams…

Red Face (Part One)

RedFaceI couldn’t tell where it was coming from—all I saw was red. You know how if you ever see a deer in the woods, they stop dead in their tracks when their eyes meet yours? That’s exactly what happened. She mumbled something. The red on her face dripped and dripped as she slid from view, but I kept walking.

Those eyes fell into the sea of tired faces going through the motions of the everyday. Like the blood that stained her porcelain skin, there was now something in my mind which I couldn’t let go of. And somehow I knew I wouldn’t be getting much sleep.

Continue reading “Red Face (Part One)”