You’re always too far to hear me.

And I’m wondering,

If I whisper to the sun

As it kisses the bronze out from under my skin

If it will carry that whisper back to you

When it leaves me for the night to head for you.

If I whisper, I miss you

When you wake in early morning light

Will you hear it?

Quiet and dream like

You, just barely touching the edges of morning

And rays of light,

Carrying my words

To crawl across your skin

Creeping in your veins,

After passing through your ears

99 Days

2,376 hours

142,560 minutes

A time so short for senior citizens, content to live out the rest of their lives at the care facility where there family dropped them off once they’d had enough of their ornery remarks and forgetfulness

They sip iced tea on the porch, condensation collecting in the glass like the wrinkles on their faces

But 99 days is infinity for me, for I have only 99 days left to live, and I intend to make the most of every second

I remember the confession,

And the dress I wore that day,

I will not forget the silence,

That sound never goes away,

I sat clothed in the bathtub,

Elbows to my knees,

As I watched the running water,

And told myself to breathe,

In that terrifying hour,

As I heard you go to bed,

I tried to comprehend,

All the words that you had said,

How easy you watched my tears fall,

And never even flinched,

It was constant fear I lived in,

Each time your fists were clinched,

My scars remind me every day,

Of something you made clear,

Hell must be empty,

Because the devils are all here.

Her mind was a hive

Buzzing thoughts were like bees

Busy; no rest

This industrious she

Her soul was a shadow

Emotions; the dark

Endless grasping the nothing

In search of her heart

Her heart’s a cocoon

Wrapped in silk, where she died

Emerging from ashes

With beauty to flight

you were my

most beautiful scar

our story

~ forever ~

only spoken to the

pleading stars

those special words

were never said

yet-

somehow I know

we both knew

breathing under water

was far easier

than loving you

© ScriptedSilence. All rights reserved

You would better be to leave untread the places I have been...

I have walked the roads wrought with death

on all sides dinged with fetid gloom

and gallows whereupon men still hang

though their flesh be as liquid pools,

all hollowed pockets where birds have fed

and where dried bones glisten through.

I have felt the shrill and stinging whip of wind

which snaps cold across the barren path,

and drowned have I within the mists,

been bloodied in its covered holes and traps,

squirming with the worms that lie

shaded by the darkness and its crafts.

I have listened far beyond my bloated share

to blithe chatterings and honey-tongued advices

to poisoned words from the adder’s lair

where snares and lies are kept as prizes,

a gloating of teeth and knives and splinters

where wits crack and spin to sound wizened.

I have tasted the foul and festering rot of sores

which drunk men degust and die of later

and opened my mouth to brackish spirits

for sake of captive festivals worthy of my hate

then begged the searing pain of chastised lips

embers as wash and stain yet brand me not a traitor.

I have smelt the putrid singe of burning weeds

what with oaths and lusts were dunged

and fits from the odored past I suffer in me still

its shadows to my heart have often clung

and trailed upon my skin with burrows

as sin to sinners, to me as known by none.

I have known all these and more

Serrated arrows in my soul,

extricated bloody, agonizing one by one

a suffering to make me whole.

And yet the eternal cost which I have racked

by grace already paid in full.

You would better be to leave untread the places I have been...

I pray you never walk them as I did,

but find light and love and hope and mercy

on safer roads to tread.

I might be a pineapple

Fixed with a crown

Solid inner core

Sweet fruit it surrounds

I Dole out some goodness

Sunny-yellow, golden, bright

Some call them "poems"

Some, "shining my light"

Flowers’ thorns; my surface

Remnants to protect

Flesh, fragile, inside

Till picked once perfect

People believe I'm quiet,

That it's because of inherent shyness

What people don't understand,

Is I'm silent

Because they don't want to hear

What I have to say

The emotions buried,

The thoughts stored away,

The suffering of another day

It seems every time I speak up,

Allow those stray ideas

To break free,

A person cries,

A person rages,

A person drinks the truth away

They can't handle

What is right in front of them,

Gazing back with

An ugly, jagged smile

And they sure as hell

Can't face it

That's why I always choose

To remain silent

~ Illuminating

onyx,

like

Moonlight’s

soft

candescence.

Congratulations you won her heart!

Listen closely as I tell you how to use it:

First, throw it on the ground!

Yeah, throw it!

Now step on it.

Really dig your heel in there.

Now pick it up and give it lots of hugs and kisses.

Tell it you’re sorry and you’ll never do it again.

Did it believe you?

Great!

Now pound it with a hammer.

Make it as flat as possible.

Oh, uh-oh! Now it’s too flat?

What’s that? It’s useless and destroyed?

Aw too bad!

Leave it over there.

We can try again with the next one.