With Shields Removed

Don’t turn around,

It won’t consume you when you follow a path

Don’t turn around,

Or face, you will, his unearthly wrath,

I knew too much, too soon,

Age shortened, mind erased,

I knew it all before my time,

Consecrated, desecrated,

I was the only hindrance to his reign,

One born directly akin,

One without ability to sin

I can feel you, and all your minions,

Approaching shadows, crossing in the nights,

I can sense your presence; your foul stench,

Shifting about stealthily; withering, stealing life,

Looking for a time when I’m not near,

Waiting till she’s alone,

Waiting for separation to strike

Don’t turn around,

It can’t devour when the path is clear,

Don’t turn around,

It can’t reach those not consumed by fear,

I can see you walking

A familiar path, a road so well known,

I can feel you talking, each word you speak,

Another moment passes by,

Hang up the phone; hear me call,

Don’t turn around; this is for real,

I can see it closing; another second it does steal,

It’s my fault, its breath you now feel,

I’m much too far, close-yet away,

To protect you now, from an attack that is meant for me,

Just keep moving; I’m almost there,

Don’t turn around; do not veer,

Don’t turn around; please I beg you to hear me please,

Footsteps now covet the sound,

For a pause you stop,

Listening, slightly leaning

Torso, directed to the left,

Shoulder out, hair flies by,

In slow motion, I see the shadow in your eyes,

To my knees I drop,

An agony I was never taught,

Light escaping from each side,

The fluidity rushing from my eyes,

There’s nothing you can do,

No physical infliction upon this frame,

Yet I feel the torture so deep inside,

It came for me,

I tried to save,

It came for me,

It cared not for you,

Just a pawn,

An attempt to harm,

And you would have been fine,

Had you not heard,

The tonality of my tongue,

Calling out, summoning you,

The only reason,

For which you turned around,

And now,

Descend

I

Must

To

A

Place

I

Am

Without

Protective

Shield 

Noellyn

A shadowy angelic dream cursed,

It’s always been about her,

There never was or will be any other,

From moments first enthrallment

To the rapid decay which soon followed,

Tempestuous restraint

Pursed lips,

Partially gnawed cuticles

On thumbs and indexing fingers,

Her display was unexpected,

White dress, pink flower,

Her insight was naïve,

The optimization of the human condition,

And believing in the philosophies she’d create,

Insight born and abandoned in her pristine yet chaotic head,

Starlight dancers on cardboard floors

Sheltering dismal beginnings

Fragmenting, dispersing

Through the use of multi-operational disco balls,

Rise and fall,

Epitomes and mouse tracking software,

Installed to the basin of the skull

Instructing and inflicting

Destiny awaits your call,

Mind so complex and less discussed than ought to have been,

I couldn’t understand a word she said

Yet my every thought was of her instead,

Dream big or bury yourself,

Beneath moth ridden clothing,

Allow your skin to shrivel to fit your skeleton,

If you don’t die trying,

Why should anyone cared if you die at all,

Passion in all realms of living,

Posture however inspired her in that minute devotion,

Her spirit flocks to structures in the sky,

Even tonight,

Five months to the hour,

I can feel her presence prodding me,

Damning words confessed so viciously,

All in the name of progress,

I miss her,

I’ll never meet another like her, no one could,

I can’t forgive her though,

For stealing away the only girl I’ve ever loved,

One day after whispering something remarkable,

So quiet I almost could not hear,

But her voice rose, just slightly, so I could hear her say,

I’ve got a secret I’d like very much to share,

You’re the only boy I’ve ever chose to wear,

And this moment is the only time I’ve ever

Said I love you, outside bedtime well wishes to my mom and dad,

I find myself spending more time as days expire,

Trying to understand, trying to make sense,

But each and every time,

I believe more and more, there had to be some other way to illustrate her point

Ocular Dysfunction

Tearing at the tendons

Ripping the sinew,

My heart, my love

Forgiveness was overdue

Gnawing at the cartilage,

Dissecting the hyaline

My one, my only

When did severance begin?

Lens produce the image

Pupils guide it through

A retina is built in layers

A portion sensitive to light

But it’s the nerve,

Conducting impulses to the brain

Too many valves,

So small a chamber,

Our union seemed so promising

If only the maturation

Wasn’t appositional

Perhaps the varicosity

Could have been relieved