How to know

Tell the mighty melancholy moon to
shut its eyes. I know you have the power
 to turn hearts, and hills, and heads. Stop it!
Make it stop. The incessant burning brilliant
intensity frays what shouldn't be there.
You can't be! you can't be. Blind me. Lose
 these eyes, as keen as they are they will be
less of a loss than the picture, timeless, pure,
 unchanging, that I have of your beautiful
 beginnings. Hand me my  heart, bloody and
beating barely for what I still wish
what could still be. Without eyes I
still spill spoiled drops too distilled to
see the clearness for the red. Gross
mis-love sent in stares meant for the
 hated we used to despise. Has it all gone?
Alone my lamenting lapse into despair is
only second to dying in mind, knowing the
destination is nothingness, not even memory.
The turn of a fool reveals I am not the only
one. Subtle glances hint to words not
spoken. Looking for the reception signals
 acceptance and the play begins. Hand the
 'mare to the next in line, you say something
 too soon in time. To hear takes all
power offered through this quick aging
 body, stress attacking all. How do you
 think this is the best for both of us?

Reviews

[Crystal Marie Dreier]

Your poems always show a lot of raw emotions and seem to come from deep down in the heart. I have enjoyed reading your work and cant wait to read more!