Life is suspended in a moment
between what was and what will be,
between did and did not.
A breath that eases in,
then rushes out
in a laugh -
in a sigh -
in the stillness of now.

The sunlight warm and gentle -
safe...
before it fades
with the quickness of a moment.

These fragile moments
that make up our mortal lives.

Vengeance flies
as the world dies,
and screams rattle off
in the wake of rich men's eyes,
crashing into bombs and cars
and goldmines.

And children watch
with eyes glazed over,
as violence rinses their souls clean
of any innocence that never was.
And the only world they'll ever know
unfolds before them
like a nightmare...
of a sawmill overrun with blood
and the glory of the kill.

 The princess and the ...

Crunching, slimy, oozing green
that kicks to get away from me.
Beat the path into the sand,
I'll take you to the devil's land
where tide and gale do not exist
and then i'll have you with a kiss,
my prince,
who shall forever be
longing for the death of me.

Darkness cold and bitter blue
escapes her lungs,
her cracking lips,
as amber eyes fade before her
and jagged howls of laughter purge the air of hope.
She floats, she falls
to nothingness -
to coldness,
harsh and fading red.

Sorry, not sorry...

I'm sorry, 

I'm not sorry.

To you, 

for you, 

for those "wrongs" 

that weren't actually wrong.

For the tears seeped into pillows.

For the knot of hate in my stomach

rising to consume me.

I'm not sorry.

I can't be.

Anymore.

To survive,

I must learn to be like you -

To rage until the daybreak,

to cut off sensibility where it stands,

to apologize to no one.

No, that's not true. 

I could never be like you.

A poison so better, 

you can't force me to drink.

Now I'm away.

Now I'm free.

I can one day be me,

if this injured bird might heal.

And I'm left with nothing more to say, but:

I'm sorry, I'm not sorry.

To you.

No longer sorry for me.