Līvidum

•

o’ midnight blue

churned up the lucid view

of future shaped by shattered past

forever that never lasts

written in our stars

that shone through you

in my midnight blue

and mem’ries could only go so far

o’ midnight blue

unbeholden its darker hue.

•

https://youtu.be/AvIqrVofq9U

* ~

d e a t h,

p l e a s e

remember to

t u r n

t h e

lights

= = =

off

&

l o c k

the doors

w h e n

y o u

l

E

a

v

E

Like feathers bristle untouched skin

Death cracks open wide, again

Wounds that well beyond heart’s brim

Tough now tender, stretched sheer-thin

Sadness beads on silvered glass

Fallen tears fill heaven’s flasks

Fragile lives reflect like brass

On golden ponds dyed ether-black

Veil of heaven, drawn, one side

Curtains closed with eyes shut wide

Sun sleeps in an endless night

Eclipse of mourning shades moonlight

Awakened by mortality

Midnight mirrors twilight seas

Dust and ash stare back and speak

Echoes of life’s brevity

In the midst of flesh and bone

Mist of ’morrows, yet unknown

Vapors of the vast bemoan

Body, spirit, soul - unsown

Wisp-white clouds combed by wind’s

tines

Hands upon the face of time

Buoys on blue ocean’s rhyme

Bells of borrowed minutes’ chime

Pools of love leave saline stains

Viewed beneath the lens loss gains

Compassion clouds and mem’ries rain

Of loved ones buried ’neath the pain

Condensate obscures the view

Lost within the looking through

Window panes marked in bold hues

Alight the heart as strength renews

Stained glass lit as candles weep

Hope sails seas of murky-deep

Soothing waves of grief, replete

In unrest spirits longing peace

Days elapse to weeks and years

Loss exhumes the past and fears

Unstitching scars in mortal mirrors

Does time hem whole beneath dried tears?

Loved ones passed, bereft refrains

Reverberating fragile frames

Eternal dwells in hearts that pang

Cymbals’ chorus angels rang

Capture - soon spring winds will blow

Scattered seeds that sorrow sows

Tend them ’til love’s flowers grow

So Fall leaves Winter, white as snow

Veritas

•

see the world through repercussion

through bad action in justification

trip over an illusion

to gain more validation

or seek admiration

in the land of manipulation

where each life decision

is made without clear vision

in the wrong direction

so lost in contradiction

for real truth’s a mere fiction

defeated by self-deception

hides behind false good intention

dissent stirs strong reaction

spit of hate over self-reflection

reinforces a pleasant division.

something’s off with sweet disposition

but once again, gut feelings work with

precision

between the lines full of blurred definition

at last one soul is saved from pseudo affection.

•

Pic: ©Laura Makabresku

What if you came home after a hard day’s work with a full heart to witness a glorious setting sun on an average fall day to notice in your peripheral vision through the dappled shade of a stand tall oak in your front yard that something just wasn’t quite right? Without rolling down the window, you smell the irregularity first. A mildewy unpleasant acrid smell, if you had to guess, burnt compost? Putrid. And you step out of the car to see it, and you don’t want to believe your eyes, so at first you convince yourself it is just a result of the sun going down; shade coming from the oak, holding on to wishful thinking.

By now you should know better. You who have had DYKE spray painted on the driver’s side of your your Camero. You who have had your partner’s picture defaced at work with an anonymous note attached to the broken glass that said, “Die faggot freak!” You that had relatives disown you even before you came out. And others insisting you change the subject when you finally did find the courage to come out, with silencing words, “That subject makes me feel uncomfortable,” or “Why don’t you look into conversion therapy?”

Holding your breathe, you look down at the ground, allowing your eyes to witness, briefly, with dry cheeks because you are long out of tears.

A cross. Burnt. Across your entire lawn. A cross that was not there when you left for work. Telling you that this abomination had to take place in broad daylight, to the heads of neighbors turned away. Turned towards what? God? The bible? The bible that teaches love your neighbor as yourself? And the note. Hung with masking tape to your front door confirmed the horrifying hate crime, “Sinners beware. God’s wrath will find you.” So with incontrovertible proof, only a fool wouldn’t call the police. They will help you, make you feel secure in your sanctuary again. Restore your dignity.

Stepping inside, grateful that the house wasn’t burnt down to the ground, you call the cops, they come out, make a report, investigate, and reassure you that they will get to the bottom of it. And then they call you in a week to tell you they have caught the perpetrator. They tell you he is sorry, he won’t do it again, and no they will not reveal his identity to you, and they urge you not to press charges, so you don’t.

Instead you go outside under the cover of darkness, plant some grass seed and then you watch it grow from the inside feeling lucky, because you know all too well how much worse today was for others like you. The suicides, the physical violence, the murders, HIV. And you wait facing down fear, for the next big dose of hate to find you, keeping a smile on your face, because you refuse to give them that too, unwilling to let the haters define you, knowing you are who you were born to be, ignoring the tag with your number on it spinning in a lottery cage, hopeful against odds your fatal number is not drawn, smiling, living, breathing, inside their world, until, as you.

“Romance me!” She cried.

“I can’t,” he replied, “Rosie, you just haven’t been the same since you died.”

~Cotton Candy

Oh, walk with me yet

Kiss my scars, and

We’ll never forget

You hung me on your vanity,

Beside your brush and lace,

I see you every morning,

When I become your face.

My edges are made of plastic,

To hide my too-sharp ends,

I have no choice but to see you,

So we might as well be friends.

I help you with your makeup,

I tell you not to wear white,

When the camera tells you you're ugly,

I say you look alright.

I know you see things like me,

Throughout your busy day,

I don't mind; I just wait here,

To make sure you get home okay.

Sometimes you look at me and weep,

And I can't figure out why.

I see every part of you, you see,

And I would never lie.

You say your eyes are too dull,

You claim your nose is askew,

You tell me your face is too ugly,

For anyone to love you.

But you don't see what I see;

I see eyes that are full of life,

With a deft nose, and a strong face,

Able to overcome any strife.

But even though I see your face,

Each morning and every night,

You don't believe that you're beautiful,

And you don't think that I'm right.

So you bring your fist up to my face,

And you splinter it through my heart,

Your fist is bloody, but you raise it again,

Determined to tear me apart.

I now lay broken on your floor,

Beside your brush, beside your lace,

The last thing I think, before falling asleep,

Is I'm glad to have been your face.

Vice Versa

•

subtle hints of blade’s keen

glittering chiseled edges

planted in the chest

stirring vague sense of

belonging somewhere down

in the guts

feelings long-gone

gone with the wind

when days carried on

bearing the pain

of things untold

gasping for lifeless air

in lively world of the dead

beneath sinking skies

where stars crumbling

into your callous gaze

over the web of lies you spun

and for once, i belong to you

when nothing left for us to hold on to.

•

22.09.19

Pic: ©Laura Makabresku

https://youtu.be/4fj9ZoUr1XA

This is a PSA.

I want to talk to you. Yes, you. How your day was, who‘s your favourite author, what’s your Hogwarts House?

But also if you ever need anything please reach out to me. For literally any reason. This community is very supportive, and it’s amazing for me, I want to help people if they need it.

Just shoot me a message, literally anything. “Hi”, “John Green is a legend” or “What are you reading rn?” works too. If you say “I need an editor”, “have any advice” or “I don’t know what to do,” I will help. I will try, my best at least. I am a little awkward, and make some mistakes, but hey, we could do that together?

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