Amiss

My own solar system blows apart,

Now the debris of my world floats aimlessly.

The rest of the planets going nowhere.

They are leaving their paths

No more sun to keep balance,

Or to sustain life.

If I left myself float on,

Memories are painful.

My fellow friend now gone,

And where I do not know.

/-\ B |_| S !E !)

Monday : You are a canvas, and he decorates you

with grotesque shades of fresh magnolia red and prussian blue.

Tuesday : One look at the always-honest mirror to see there are

vomited bruises all over your reflection. It never lies.

Wednesday : Someone took your rosy coloured glasses and now you have your own rainbow

black blue black blue black red purple.

Thursday : "I didn't mean it. I'll never do it again. I love you,"

his lips are talking.

"I love beating you. I love possessing you,"

his white knuckles are whispering.

Friday : True beauty is real pain: true pain is real beauty.

(by these standards, you are truly gorgeous)

Saturday : A is for abrasion, B is bump, C is for contusion

The A-b-c of how he loves you.

Sunday : Body Shop, paint job, red rouge.

When exceptional plastic features look ordinary.

The artists canvas be fresh for the next week.

Shied Wisdom

Flowing off a tongue, words seeped in soul contemplation

a thought stored in heart, voiced in constemation;

for meaning, greater than a hollowness in a mute enounce

wrought through by doubt, of why they should so resound.

Spoken in that twisted language known for it's unknowing

captures whispering word, of another's thoughts bestowing

it upon a limited and descriptive, burst in quite verse

there lays a beauty, in truth shyly locked away in time.

For all who may doubt, the winds of thought so brought

despair in one's seeeking for more than sould thought words

a clarity is that said, which comes from heart not head

truth, quiet shouted nouns or verbs, so completely read.

To waste away and forget on one moment's truth and shame

is to face, one more daring and fear filled day to come

for a word to become as closed, within an unspoken soul

is to languish in a void, as one's true thoughts unfold.