Even avalanches couldn't stifle
her.

mouth wide open

stealing all the air in the room-
leaving nothing left

clean.

Like dirty, dirty, dirty

running water, red and cold.

She was forever painfully bold,
bone twistingly brave

was she.


and all her lies you could not help but believe,
believe, believe....

snow can't bury everything.

adept at stifling sonic booms

to make sure
I break down;
I never do break through.

don't call it constant drama
no, you never knew-

you never knew me at all.

sabotage my own
grandiose fantasies.

take a knife to
stab away reality.

cut you with the bitter blades of what
I'll never be.

you never knew,
you never knew me-
at all.

Trip over this news,
fall down the stairs.

Didn't catch a clue
till you were in midair.

Thought you knew the truth
but what you knew
was never really there.

You never knew. You never knew
me
at all.

don’t fight it-
this mudslide of swollen dreams

that whisks you toward the grave.
don’t say its

more than you can take
just take it-

over your skin, smooth like gin,
in a glass that is black

so you can’t see a thing
till it’s all too late.

flesh pressed against
the gate

foolish

hopes drip away,
gurgling down the
drain.

used to think
you would die if it all
turned out this way.

Then it did.

Under endless skies, she wore white
and danced with hips
that sighed

and slid, and smoothed their way to
unheard beats-



beneath the thumping Mexican heat,
he found her

withering there.

And was it fair? No, it was not fair.
But what? What?

What in life ever was? What dream would come?

For them the answer was none, none, none, and

simply never.

She had always belonged to someone else and she would forever.

Note- This poem was written for Poetry Thursday. The first line comes from Brian at Truth is Freedom

The W's

When all the sand in the hourglass
slips
like wine squeezed from the fruit of time

and what I thought I would one day be
becomes
what I never quite could find,


who shall I seek?
where shall I search?

who cleans up messes when everything hurts?

If the broken break under a moonless sky
does
God still see the tears they cry?

Just whisper to me the cure-
who,what, where,
why, why, why
did time run out and I was still chasing my ghost of a life,

just chasing ghosts, and catching nothing, nothing
every time.


Note-This was written for Poetry Thursday’s April 1st prompt: absolve
My idea was to describe a person who seeks forgiveness for wasting their life but who can give that forgiveness and what would it look like?