Danse Macabre

I can see your skeleton

Dancing wihout skin

Sickly thin but opened up

For anyone’s heart to wander in.

Peace of mind unveiled

Aware and mostly dead

But twirling in your skirt,

Dreaming as you exhale.

Free as dissipation,

Flatenned lungs kissing

Last breaths to beating hearts

Pumping through the intermission.

Roses thrown in jest

Cutting naked flesh,

Smile half-knowingly

Hand to your breast.

Curtsy as you walk

Ignoring all the talk,

Blending in uncomfortably

Till it’s time to dance again.

Pale as brittle bones,

Stepping with your toes,

Peeking through the blinds

To see what life you’re in.

 

 

Familiar Folks

Familiar bonds deep engrained

Exclusively expressed in obligatory superficiality,

As unspoken words of affection

Felt and understood in every awkward glance and gesture.

Lifetimes of re-enforced sentiment

Spent in care-free novelty and tumultuous tribulation.

Loyalty in our devoted blood

Rewarded only in our collective facile interaction.

 

Incapable as we are

To satiate our needs for attachment,

We gather nonetheless

To empower our familiar bonds.

Between our solemn personas

We’re tied to chains of intimacy,

Holding us together

As our identities are weighted down.