The squealing and the frightful sounds
all greet me by the underground, all
sleep beside my aching head..oh how
those dreams have fallen dead with
something much like dreadful dread

When waking I would hope to see your
panicked face come near by me, your
fitful hands shake wild in pain as
darkened skies refuse their rain..
and I refuse the pain.

I wait for you both day and night until
the sky pours down the light of damaged
love I thought was mine  and yet I seem
 to find, these images have ceased to bruise

my schizophrenic mind

 The whisperings and midnight chatter, things
were said that did not matter. I was drained
by not at point of gone. I could feel
your lies just short of my last moan… and
the pain just  rarely barely missed the bone.

Oh bird of mirth, oh demon child…just
short of giving love defiled, I saw the truth
and held it high to purge the beauty from
the lie….to save the heart from loving sigh
but I won’t say goodbye.

amidst my tortured cry.