Some Fights

some fights are silent
some roars you can’t hear
some nights leave scars
some days birth fear

courage comes each sunrise
bravery in the dark
while you are sleeping pretty
I’ll be swinging a punch

in dreams, I plan my attack
which way to focus aim
how my feet will land
in morning’s sweet refrain

you run about your day
in automated normalcy
you think you know my way
while I confront my enemy

fear may fright my veins
and keep me on the cliff
but willingly I’ll face
my fate and my what-ifs

for only by standing fast
where I feel my very worst
can my faulty feet
learn to walk once again

some fights are mere moments
some roars are salty tears
some nights bring peace
some days birth falling heroes 

 

~ Emily C. 10.19.17

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This Dark Night

crow stares with crescent moon eye
surveying the night and me
perched on a dead branch he spies
my steps taken rather tentatively

skeleton leaves frozen like me
cracking under foot they crumble
alone — no one can hear chattering
of my teeth, or my incoherent mumble

while I wander in this black evening
searching for a way out of this trap
I can’t help but feel blood curdling
and hairs on my arms begin to react

caw! and I jump with a startle
whoo! and I jolt to the right
meow! and I trip on the cat
squeak! and I curse this dark night

but no, these were not my enemies
not my tormentors nor my fears
rather my furry friendlies
saving me a spot to rest my rear

up to the tree I climbed
dead leaves my new cozy nest
blinking down my crescent moon eyes
to spy who might walk by next

 

~ Emily C. 10.13.17

Ash

the wind arrives with a familiar fury
she wonders whether or not to bury
her head, heavy still with last year’s
seasons — fireplace and smoke,
pores choked in acrid pain that won’t
wipe clean, just smears like tears
on skin that used to rebound,
resilient as a rubber band, now
snaps. awakened by the sound
of herself coming to. the truth.
and no way around it. but through
another season she goes, brave
like an iron poker in the fire
of time. she radiates attraction.
a mesmerizing glow. pretty to look.
but don’t touch. her heat will burn you.
the wind’s fury pulls her smoke up,
curls her exhausted air, like the hookah
the caterpillar tokes.
her ‘help’ rises from her cold ash,
disperses on the wind reminding her
who’s in charge — dear girl, not you.
not you.

 

~ Emily C.

10.6.17

Poisoned Dreams

your chest was once my pillow
your heart my poisoned dreams
the driving rain on the window
my tears echoed in their grief

a stroke of hand feels for flesh
reveals illusion in night’s death
a nothingness in place of you
a vacant cold my hands caressed

your image stirs behind tired lids
your name froths on tip of tongue
drifting to unconsciousness
toxic dreams of hope, my bane

to wake, to sleep, matters not
either realm reminds me
you left your crumbs of memories
dried bits of love left molding

o, slip me wine, a bottle or two
numb this aching heart
how can one escape a ghost
when he’s in every thought

 

~ Emily C.

10.4.17

Undead

this
cold exhumed heart
your rusty shovel dug
out from quicksand mud
long buried
with the blind worms
dinner for turning earth
resting in silent peace
sleeping free
now
seeing light again
speaking fright again
beholden to the holder
the warm hand
it rests within
waiting
for a compression
a resuscitation
one beat
to start them all
blue to red
love’s undead

~ Emily C.

9.20.17

Flight

truth killed imagination one day, poisoned by reality,
she has, is forgotten, like a passing rainbow.
that beauty – in a flash – scattered horizon-wide,
a memory of what could have been, no longer.

she wandered far from sources of light;
its tender appeals silenced in hell’s raining fire,
far brighter than any hope she had once…
far cooler than the inside pain she has felt.

nothing is the sole survivor…
but a carcass,
not a smile, nor frown — not joy, not fear
laughter nor tears

a blankness envelops all she was
an existence now consisting of a pulse
perhaps a breath, only an instinct to live,
yet lacking the will…yet lacking the will.

evasive words, a distrust of love
numb to it all, devoid of herself
her battle alone, her fight, her fail
her struggle, and in the end,
alone,
her flight.

~ 9.19.17