Snow Angel

 

My last shred of hope snaps; that single

dangling thread of sanity holding the heavy

mirror looking back at me. Now it shatters.

Smashed glass memories litter the floor 

with sharp painful splinters. 

Romantic dinners and sea view walks.

 

My hands bleeding ruby droplets, over that 

one last strand of the life I once held,

over the jagged edges of drives 

and lakeside nights.

Surprises I already knew were coming.

Sunsets and sunrises we saw 

with rose tinted eyes.

Now the blood turns them

into toxic skies.

 

I turn to see

the whole thing collapsing,

like a house of cards.

The walls, the furnishings, the ceiling.

I'm left grasping, Downcast

as they all fall down around me,

tears mixing with the rubble of past.

 

Dusty memories at best,

already becoming distant as they flow

into the air like birds leaving the nest.

I lay with a tear in my eye.

A snow angel

amongst the debris,

the wreckage

of this old version of me.

 

 

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Kyle

 

Scorched heart

 

Torched my soul with fire.

Engulfed me,

in passion consumed.

Those flames fanned

stoking the fires within

these already parched

and baked lands.

 

Scorched, craving warmth.

Heat incinerated thoughts.

My heart smouldered

like eyes

searching the desert landscape

of your skin

from my skies

where even the rain is evaporating.

 

Blazing heat flares every time we meet,

when our eyes burn their greetings.

Every warming sunset.

To ashes and dust

old thoughts combust,

as they float off.

Embers of stories remembered.

 

Flames lick until you can no longer

feel the burning pain.

Smothering every hurt feeling

within the blistered

and charred remains.

The Inferno consumes itself,

as your last hope starts to combust

and acid tears

once cried,

turn to dust

 

With fire is danger,

heat and passion

bring rage and anger.

Stroking my heart

with sandpaper hands,

then pouring the salt water.

to bring the stinging pain.

Boiling away

the pieces that remain.

Until I am just a shell.

That feels like I've

walked the fires of hell.

 

 

 

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Peace, Love and Poetry 

 

Kyle

 

 

Burnt visions

 

She appeared,

as if someone had just flicked on a light,

pressed a switch and there she was.

Directly in sight.

Frightful features,

rotten skin,

boils and puss oozing.

Maggots feasting on her sightless face

where her eyes once sat in place.

And then she was gone.

 

Only there for a second,

but that image burned into my mind.

The wretched vision now stuck firmly behind

my eyelids, my dreams, 

in my memories

and all the moments between.

What was seen can never be unseen.

Can never be washed clean.

The screams that echoed from her torn ripped throat,

can never be unheard, the gurgles that erupted into a choke.

Can never be unremembered.

 

As if she has a watch, she turns up

exactly at 3 on the dot,

As the clock chimes,

I hear her echoing wailing cries

and there she stands again.

Crooked neck, broken bones

pitiful moans, turn to dismal groans.

Her rasping voice sometimes croaks through,

just a word or two.

Then just as quickly she fades out of view.

 

Her words I write some nights,

when the fright has a tight grip on my heart

and I fear if I close my eyes

it will stop and never again restart.

Her words.

over many weeks I've managed to collect.

 

Help me. It was him.

The man that gave me lodgings.

3am, he entered my room,

his whisky-soaked voice boomed

and over me he loomed.

Wrapped a rope

around my throat.

pushed me from the top step,

my neck broke.

and now I can't leave.

Please help me.

I can't breathe.

I can't leave.

 

 

Thanks for reading

https://linktr.ee/Wordsandfluff 

 

Please follow the link for my books, videos and social media.

 

Every click, every book purchase, every like helps me to keep doing what I love.

 

Peace, Love and Poetry 

 

Kyle