An Outpour of Butterflies

Flocks of feeling come to sit

On my lips that speak your name.

Flying round and circling--

A stomach full of knots.

When those wings begin to flutter

A heart racing does not stop.

As that simple feat of speech

Dares to pass beyond my lips,

Latches break and color pours

From those thin and fragile wings.

Contorting to my wishes

They do flow and lightly dance.

A mosaic filled with motion,

Frames my effervescent awe.

But somehow you still stay there

As I stand in swarms of beauty.

Wings a pounding, ever loud,

I hear nothing but their beating.

But I smile at their existence

And I breathe in scents of wonder.

Something causes me to ponder,

Do you see the same thing too?

Blades of Green

Chilly dew frosts the green blades of grass,

Silent in the wind that once ripped them from the roots.

The icy shell plants them there eternally.

The sun shines, but they won't be thawed til' noontime.

They'll be stepped upon by each passerby

With a final crunch of submission.

But with each dirty sole

Squashing, trampling, and kicking the blades,

One by one the crystals melt away.

A wash of green and mud covers solid ground

And a few, weak blades are carried with the soles.

The wind strikes the sky and grass whips and withers.

No prisoner to ice, but a victim to the breeze. 

Tears for the Unknown

Effortless tears drizzled over a pale complexion.

A surprising taste of salt

Caused by startling emotions.

A wave of realization

Toppled sturdy pillars to the sand.

A wish thrown to the stars,

Only in parallel planets becoming reality.

They pulled so hard on the rope--

Desiring to capture the attached dream and bring it to earth.

Countless frenzied whispers of yearned for truths

Echoed in valleys between impregnable mountains.

The hopeful yearned to climb one--

To sit at the peak and stay forever,

To perch and be an actual existence.

If only I knew that though--

That through crevices, gorges, and dark caves

This dream would wander. 

I would wait,

No matter the time.

I would do whatever.

No landmark too daunting,

No universe too far away,

No rope too long.

But I don't know that.

And I never will.

That's why I cry.

For lack of knowing,

For the many realistic mountains dreams must conquer,

For the potential loss of a happy future.

Bats and Sanity

The bats in the belfry flutter and romp

In a mind already cluttered with scattered thoughts.

They tear up the papers and shred the colors

Of distant skies from long lost remembrances.

Their flapping stirs the pictures

Bringing memories to mind,

But throwing close kept secrets to the attic ceiling.

There's a single light there dangling from a lonely string

Rustled by the breeze meandering through the cracks.

And all the while a smile sits upon your face

Falsely reassuring peace to the occasional passerby.

But behind your aching, smiling cheeks you crouch

In your attic watching your sanity fly.  

The Flurries

Today was a pile of disappointments,

A mountain of mistakes and misunderstandings.

The clouds trapped the sun for infinite hours

And the stars hid behind the unforgiving fog

That silently seeped behind my eyes.

Waves of silence washed over me

In the midst of loud and cheering voices. 

Gulps of frozen air sent a shiver through my spine

As the wind whipped my battered countenance.

The last browned leaves ripped free from their branches

So too did I tear away from the last drip of confidence I owned.

A climate marked by countless frigid flurries

Brought the end to my desire

And the beginning of my solitude.

Fleeting Freedom

It uses people.

It pushes, pulls and pulverizes reason.

Rarely silent, but never loud.

Wakes your restless mind from dreamless sleep.

It never waits as your mind wanes.

Always wanting wishful words for a world

Much better than the dreary demise you dread.

Haunting heartlessly.

But you bask, blinded by the binding

Clutches of that which you desire most.

You mostly want her.

Her sweet yet silent soul.

You'll find your fleeting freedom

In her soft and daring eyes.

Finally fighting fiercely,

Because she matters now.

But love it does yet bind you.

It's harming helpless hearts

Like yours.

Without recognizable respect.

Flying, floating, fleeing

From the truth you now know.

She's made her memory--

an imprint on your once sanguine soul 

The Spill

They hang silently on your clenched lips.

A diver anxiously prepares to plunge

Into an abyssal pool of accumulated uncertainties

motivated by countless misconceptions of the truth.

One transparent miscalculation prefaces the downfall--

The end of a hopeless affair.

Torturing your tongue they explore your mouth

Looking for cavernous spaces to fill and rest.

But the most quiet thoughts find a place on the very tip.

Breaching your mouth they'll drip down your chin.

A faucet plopping for a time too long to fathom.

No one will shut it off.

Clinging to anxiety you blunderingly try to hold back

Once locked up secrets from the recesses of your mind.

But they don't stop pouring.

A steady stream of water flows

Only to circle round and gurgle in the drain of despair.

You plug the hole and let the words stand and settle.

Empty caverns and starving wonder cause you to look up.

Without a façade you stand unguarded before bright eyes.

One breath is a million miles traveled there and back,

And a wink of weighted, tired eyes

Dare you to keep them closed forever.

The response is a frigid blast of wind. 

***I'm curious to know how you interpret this. It seems unfinished, and that is purposeful. Please leave a comment on the link or the blog. I am anxious to hear your thoughts! Thank you