Family

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Times that tremble through you
passing by a passive mind,
jamming triggers of weapons like dust
on an old album, slowly scratching away
tunes that used to brighten our days.

It is to be felt abruptly, a realization
that things can still go wrong.
For no matter how hard you try
how hard you want for it to go well,
nothing is in your hands.
Cigarettes are lit, but never smoked.

Soon the plagues will come and crawl,
make a mess of what you've spent
your whole life building like a busy queen ant.
Soon, my dear, you shall not ever be seen,
ever again.

So rest your tongue, for words only make heavier
the burden of you, we endure
your wishes, questions and fallouts.
We are family.



Image from: http://the-oxette.deviantart.com/art/Grandma-2-92502797

Harp at a Funeral

Please help me
for I am too happy with who I am.
Birds singing, rain sprinkling and candy
in all possible variations.

Greeted by a hot door handle,
a nod and a smile, I sigh
feeling it creep underneath my skin
a sinner's last meal is meant to be...

Heat strokes attacking my eyes
filling them with warmth where cold resides
from now 'till forever.
Can't you see? I love this place.
I've been home where I did not intend,
now I long for yesterday's beating heart
and tomorrow's festivities.

He stands, serenading for who decides to pass.
Through a looking glass, he smiles at us,
sings one last song
before he packs his seven things
to leave this room in silence.

A flutter here, a whisper there.
He left us in despair, a place where
no Monroe is fair, no saint will share.
A place so empty,
echoes are scared.




Image from: http://jimduvall.deviantart.com/art/2004-20-37906976