there is a pause
between the door
and the door handle,
a line to each step.

i take off

stagnant in my
disintegration

i remain.

this which does not creep
that leaves me cowered
storms with sharp stride
to take me.

safer still
in the blank gasp

in decision
and indecision.

----

*safer still definitely has been used in other poems by me...everything is borrowed even by myself. is it blog time again really? i suppose i must be going mad again.

the bee saga lives on

when we die out
fuck you pretty
there'll be barely green to protect you
only fading
rose tattos on fat arms and arses
baron petals
without the burrowed kiss
of gone
silent wings

a poem i wrote a while ago...yes sometimes i do still have them in me

You shatter,
hiding knives in bottles and
things I wouldn't understand.

Your song
sifts through the sea
with a low moan
and an ache,

waiting for time
to carry you-
over the waves,
held to shore.