Night Childe

She walks in step with the night
Snuggly swaddled in its ebony coat
It has always been her one true friend
Her muse, whom she often quotes

She scribbles her wishes on its blank black canvas
Staples her dreams to the backs of dingy doves
Nails her hopes to the wings of ravens
And sends them all to the stars above

She is black lips and blacker heart
Sultry sin in its purist form
A damaged damsel gone bad
Doing whatever it takes to keep warm

She dances with the devil
A wicked waltz of spreading blight
Hoots and howls at the moon
Parts her thighs and devours its light

Broken Things

how do you mend broken things
can you mend broken things
that can’t be seen…
cracks that splinter a bleeding heart
clefts that rend a battered soul
chasms that cleave a suspicious mind

empty words are not bandaids
good deeds are not splints
love is not glue…
to things that were broken so long ago
that crucial pieces were forever lost
to the merciless left hand of time

Gone

too much hurt
too much pain
too much rage
…won’t do it again

not enough joy
not enough peace
not enough love
…to make up for grief

leave me be
leave me alone
leave me empty
…leave me…gone