Guilt

scraping and scratching
panicking and desperate
jagged manicure of helplessness
leaves eerie marks of terror
hollow cries and low moans
invade my dreams
and shape into what seems to be
a dark, intrinsical fear
inside of my head
clawing on superstitions
that only black cats can bring
and when he finally rests
and gives me his best mischievous smile
he sings
I ate the canary....
I ate the canary...

May

I call upon the Sixth of May once more
somehow, someway to energize my trust
Just make me feel the love I felt before
I was drained by your absolute silence
This tinted, tarnished steel covered in rust
from crying salt stained tears on metal doors
which used to bridge the emptiness in us
lies broken, crushed in anger on the floor
That special moment when we shared a vow
to love within our hearts and nothing less
Whispered words: someway, somewhere, somehow
became our path of love and happiness
I need the Sixth of May to redirect
my disconnected soul from your neglect

Morgue

Faces and places consume my reprieve
The moon screams an apocalyptic glow
Pin pricked by pain my heart leaks like a sieve
Into false waters and darkness below
There lies an untruth in each of your words
You refuse to speak when I crave it most
Losing the sky like a broken winged bird
Attempting to talk through a clouded host
I crash land alone into lost memories
The rain becomes jealous of each tear shed
Dropping my heart onto cold, wet, concrete.
Gasping for love -- its reached terminal death
The horror will dry and my heart will shrink
Embalmed in loneliness -- frozen reprieve.