Callouses

My eyes are tired

And my heart is yawning

While my feet are carrying

Me away from here.

We stumble along the path

Over rocks and trees and grass

But the beating of my lash

Makes this all okay.

You are holding my hand

Leading the way

But my look sways

To see what we're leaving behind.

Scream

I am buried

Underneath the snow

Not breathing

The ice packed into my ears, my eyes, my mouth

Packed into my pores, my heart, my soul

Deceiving

Burning.

And the music plays on.

Secrets

My secrets come out

in the form of figures and cartoons

Dancing upon the lined paper

Or the napkin on the table.

Flying in their freedom

Or drowning in their regrets

They have shape

And story.

My fingers are covered in ink.

Underwater

I am underwater

The trees sway back and forth

With spotted compliance

Their dead brothers dance

about my feet,

Skipping in blind acceptance,

Humming a tune

I am underwater.

The wind rushes past my face

Like a silk sheet

Pretending to be a friend

But really suffocating.

A smile is there, in truth

With the perpetual waning moon

And the roars that call my heart

I am underwater.

Dark, Cold, Alone.

A pulsing, a thrashing, a calming hand.

I sit on a bench, on the first of November

waiting.

November

The Brown Leaf sits, defeated

Among the greying shafts

Of once living grass. They hold

it still, almost binding

so it won't sing it's Autumn

song. Thousands more just like

it hang twenty feet above, waiting

for the Frost to kill them too.

They'll fall and be replaced

In the space that Brown Leaf

sacrificed, the idea of a new

bud has already taken

place.