Pavor nocturnus

Whispers rattle through deadened doors;
feather-tipped tongues
that roll and spit
insects in amongst the bark.
The minute hand jars against my ear
like sandpaper.
The once damp linoleum cracking,
as my clawed talons
snarl and tear.
Rising to meet reflected cavernous eyes;
bloodied lips.
I can do nothing other than stare as
the mirror stains with blocks of black,
devouring my reflection
until I contort; disappear.
Ceasing to be before my eyes.


He sleeps beside me does not know,
my heart bleeds profusely a sickening glow.
And while he wakes I do caress,
knowing the heart loveless no less.
A tortured statue I have become,
his lack of love decants the rum.
Strength I wish, hope to forget,
tears fall in seclusion I can’t beget.
He holds me dear alone a friend,
rose amends, his lips he send.
Such a delicate embrace is this reality,
or attempt to please misguided charity.

A futile perception of past perfection.
A rampant resolve for resurrection.
The will of its nature consumed by yearning.
A terrible foe, a raged heart burning.
Apathy adorns the edges of its unsheathed sword.
Mercilessly slashing all screams ignored.
An imagined look the devils hook impressions never fading.
His brilliance of mind make my heart unkind.
Undiminished and unfinished loves poison courses.
Its presence inspires its friction mind fires.
Flashbacks of binding brilliance.
Remembered laughter and love fortifies resilience.
The life yet lived, wasted wanton.
A mind entrapped, the bindings strapped.
Where's the corner for the turning.
To resolve the loss the heart must cross.
The river it bleeds from yearning.