Black Is

Originally published on the Literati Mafia

black is…
the color of the ocean floor
the color of the deepest well
the color of a witch’s cat
the color of a lover’s spell

black is…
the color of infinity
the color of a new-moon night
the color of secrecy
the color of a dream that never takes flight

black is…
the color of a broken heart
the color of a demented mind
the color of an empty life
the color left behind

black is…
the color I breathe
the color I see
the color I taste
the color that owns me

for black is…me

Photo via Pixabay

Her and Me

Originally published on the Literati Mafia

I can’t be
Who you want me to be
I am not her
I am only me

I am not docile
Can’t live on my knees
Can’t humble myself
Can’t beg pretty please

Been slapped in the face
Learned not to be weak
Don’t lean on anyone
Stand alone on my feet

Can’t hold on to trust
Can’t give you my all
Shaped by my past
I always look for the fall

I’ve tried to be
Who you need me to be
Can’t hold on to her—
That other me

She feels too little
She feels too weak
She feels too needy
Just too fucking meek

Not worthy of love
Not worthy of respect
A whiny, scared baby
You always have to protect

Can you love
All that is me
Just take me as I am—
Or walk away free

Because….

I can’t be
Who you want me to be
I am not the others
I am only me

Photo via Pixabay

Unwind

Originally published on the Literati Mafia

I’m tired, so very tired
of love, of so-called life
of all the countless heartaches
and years of endless strife

can’t undo what been done
too late to re-roll the dice
time to pay the penurious piper
but can’t afford the price

the velvet black void beckons
sweetly calls my secret name
offering silence I can rest in
tranquil and godless, free of pain

an endless, empty nothing
to pillow my weary mind
hopes and dreams fizzle out
as I blissfully, beautifully unwind

 

Photo via Pixabay

I Look Down

Originally published on the Literati Mafia

From my window
I look down, look down
At the iniquitous world spread out below me.
I look down, look down
I see the curst world, but it doesn’t see me.

From my room
I look down, look down
At the caliginous night steeped in midnight tea.
I look down, look down
I see the leaden darkness, but it doesn’t see me.

From my prison
I look down, look down
At a haunting of ghosts, ghouls, and monstrous afreets.
I look down, look down
I see all things vile and evil . . . and pray they don’t see me.

© Kaddie Tucker 2018

Photo via iStock

Confirmation

She’s not good enough
Someone told her so
Dripped poison in her ear
A long time ago

The mirror confirms
Shows dull frizzy hair
A nose too long
Ugly body when bare

The paper confirms
When she scrawls with pen
Mediocre writing
No contest it’d win

The past confirms
No good deeds were done
No sacrifices made
No battles won

The present confirms
A dull empty life
No one’s darling
No one’s wife

The future confirms
What she already knows
Nothing will change
Down that long dark road

Photo via Pixabay

Sleeping Dogs

Stretched out like a sorrowful slithering snake
No warm sun, no cool moon to light its way
Dank and dismal, ceiling scaly with stunted stars
Purgatory’s hallway, colored tear-stained gray

Barred doors line its bowed-in, petrous walls
Fashioned from lies and anger, jealousy and greed
Keys without locks, and locks without keys
Hiding haunted hearts that eternally bleed

Cold bricks weep night sweats, whiskey, and coke
Discordant screams slide underneath sallow doors
Unanswered prayers seep through crumbling cracks
Curdle into a slippery stigmata upon the frigid floor

Don’t break the painted-over seal, don’t peer inside
Don’t look upon fractured faces hiding hurts and slights
Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to
Don’t offer false salvation…let sleeping dogs lie.

Photo via iStock

Death Becomes Her

Death becomes her…
Smoothed the seams that lined a tired face
Erased the anger from eyes of green flint
Hushed the blush that colored cold cheeks
Purged the pain from a heart, empty and spent

Death becomes her…
Hollow hope packed its overstuffed bags
Romantic ruminations stepped out the door
Borrowed tomorrows went on vacation
And now sleeps serenely beneath sandy shores

 

photo via Pixabay

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

 

Photo via iStock

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

Photo via Pixabay

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

 

Photo via Pixabay