tune my heart

there is something inside me that is pure
darkness. it watches you speak of goodness
and it scoffs at your truth.. the truth that rests
its weak limbs in the adjacent room of my
heart. the lightless hopes the veritas will
starve inside it's stairwell closet.. it is
a malicious, sneering face that hopes the
light will soon be drowned out. the face
sees through bloodshot eyes the light
being passed as a flame--from a tiny
candle to brilliant torch--slowly to a once
darkened heart. and though it fears the
illumination, it coughs rudely in vain
attempts to retain the darkness where-
ever it can. but the closet dweller resides
in the center, though it be a paltry place
to hide so great a thing, the center of a
darkened house.. and slowly its glow
will overtake the sneering, hateful
face--burning it away on that last day in a
once and final vengeful annihilation--
and will remind us of what
compassion could have been.

"come thou fount of every blessing
tune my heart to sing thy grace.
streams of mercy never ceasing
call for songs of loudest praise..."

apoptosis

no necesito la frialdad de tus ojos, el vacio invasiva.

estos brazos no estaban destinado a temblar y mi

corazón no estaban destinado a tiritar como las páginas

de un libre abierta debajo de un ventilador sin piedad.

es una triste verdad que lo que se unió debe romperse

y que las aves vuelan en el invierno también. yo no

pienso que el sonido de un suspiro puede contener la

historia de amor. veo quebrantamiento como un pesadilla,

y “conjunto” es un palabra de esperanza.