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Celestial Crown

I’ll pluck the colors of the skies,
right out of the air,
and weave them ‘fore your very eyes.

I’ll grasp azure and cyan dyes
and cerulean most fair.
I’ll pluck the colors of the skies.

I’ll work until the sunset vies
crimson shades with glaucous glares
and weave them ‘fore your very eyes.

I’ll wait until the moonbeams rise
and thread a set, or perhaps a pair.
I’ll pluck the colors of the skies

Throughout the night, until sunrise
spills rivers of red which I’ll prepare
and weave them ‘fore your very eyes.

I’ll secure them with firm ties
and lay the veil upon your hair.
I’ll pluck the colors of the skies
and weave them ‘fore your very eyes.

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Filtering filth

You put a gag over your own words
because you only wanted to share them with friends.
I put a gag on your words
because I got tired of listening
to all the shit spewing out of your mouth.

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Unspoken pain

The last words I remember
were “I love you”.
I never got the chance
to hurt you with “goodbye”.

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Pitiful pride

I will not give in.
I will not give in.
I will not give in.

I will –

*dial tone
and weeping
while I dialed out*

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Verocity

You bring out the beast in me.

(There’s always someone
who likes to point out
that I misspelled “best.”
So I have to correct them,
“No, you sneering little cunt-stain,
I meant ‘beast’.”)

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Ghosting

Those lonesome days when no one speaks
and only the idle electric hum
breaks the cyberspace silence.