it cant be taken back

a hand against a mirror
eyes refelcting what isnt seen by anyone
a phone call shatters the still
shrilly calling out
the person on the other end wanting to be desperate
the issues contrived and bloated intentionally
there is no small in their life

the click as it is picked up
guilt and resentment reaching out for the handle
words drift out to ears that arn't really listening but closed up with the voice of regret
the fimilar words- "36 hours"-drift in and out- "how many times?"
larynx vibrates and vocal folds open to say "yes, i will be right there"
a sigh and then a click
the reciver returned to the cradle
sitting down immobile.

This Could Be Anywhere

She feels the sharp jut of the television set into her stomach, and she folds in half. She can feel her dress hiked up to the small of her back. She feels the first squaddie penetrate her with a sharp thrust, then the next, then the next, then the next. In the reflection of her broken front window, she can see them laughing. The spoils of victory are theirs. She stops fighting.

Later it will burn when she urinates.
Later she will vomit in the mornings.
Later, her child will never know his father.

He tries to call out, but the pain from his broken jaw reduces his cries to a gurgle of agony. He is wreathed in a miasma of tear gas and gunsmoke, a dirty halo of a centuries worth of research and development. He digs himself into the ground, like an animal in the dying throes. A hailstorm of rifle butts and leather boots reduces him to a sobbing heap of defeat. He sees a kaliedoscope of supernovas and shooting stars, before it all implodes on him. He stops fighting.

Later he will spit up the remainder of his teeth.
Later he will vomit all day long.
Later, his cause of death will be listed as "severe internal bleeding".

His neck must broken. He hasn't moved in at least half an hour. He lies wispy and frail, a transient and grotesque tableau of broken innoncence splattered all over the living room floor, walls and ceiling. There is a small crater in the wall behind the front door that matches the back of his broken skull, and there are bloodstains spattered on the sergeant's uniform, the last evidence of what he will later claim was an act of self defence. His hands clutch the squirt gun. His mother screams.

Later he will not wake up.
Later his body will be find itself in a mass grave.
Later, years in the future, the brother he never met will swear revenge.

Outside the desert sands dance in the wind. The birds song reaches a deafening crescendo under the jungle canopy. The shelled out and abandoned streets scream bloody murder. The forests cry revenge. Whatever.

Schmutzige Liebe (German for Englishmen)

Pull me into your web, with spidery hands
Make me crawl, serpentine and played out
Each vein of my weathered hands
A roadmap to lust

Bruised and swollen eyes recount
Hotels and motels
Sheets still crusted stale passion
Broken mirrors, broken bones

Gums bleeding, chomping at the bit
Make me choke it down
Make me keep it down
Make me hiss and bite

Fingers sticky with blood
From reaching in my wallet, or in my pants?

Perception

Shapes cut in and out of her peripheral vision
as she walks down the partial lit corridor
not able to see straight
hearing her breathe, feeling the vibrations of her footsteps
completely alone
every crack she sees
a old nursery rhyme creeps in
taunting her until she avoids them
concrete walls loom before her
seamless and endless
blocking her from the outside
she cuts a quick left but here there is nowhere to go but straight
misses all the doors
each shaft of light like a laser
ready for her, to decimate her
her breathe quickens
then she sees the end of the corridor
moving to it
sees the room, safe and secure
completely empty and free of expectations
a shape comes to her
a beak moving like razor sharp pincers
she plays hide and seek
hoping if she doesn't see it, it won't see her
it fades into the bottom of the corridor
and as she looks back she sees it step on a crack and winces in pain
she continues
avoiding all cracks,her mothers face in her eyes
she reaches the room
dark with no one
she chest opens
then she looks back and realizes she dropped her scarf.

I am

I am a sea
Unexplored
Secrets I hide
Suffocate in the deep

I am the sky
Fragile bubble
Ready to burst
That keeps the divide

I am the space
Beyond what I know
Stars that I see
Something of me