The Attic.

Rumours abound deep within
hollow cries of yesteryear,

shackle
the truth,
fear

the embrace.

The monotonous rain congealed,
each drop splays the floor
in sequence

the chimes of the clock
mocking all who sleep below.

Time ravages all who come to pass
yet welcomes with a splendid hello

for here lies hell
the prison of my mind
uncontrolled

I and I alone.

I pace once a year through empty spaces,
banging my head against their door

the momentary shadow
talks to me
as I watch from the attic window.

I am the sequence of events
murdered in dreams,
the black and white smudged

inherited from demons long settled.

The caricature of life
captured by the lonely descent
of every passer-by

their prayers unanswered
laced with venom

choked by lore and prose

their God in my hands
as I sever each throat

including my own.

©2008 Michaela James.

Porcelain.

I interpret the bargain in my hands
your porcelain face

carved within the timeline of apathy

I anticipate the shatter of delusions
specific to my crime

deny the denial of my every whim.

Dusk arrives and
I hurt more than I’ve ever done

stick the pins as we collide,
capitulate to the whore of wisdom

consider your worth.

One day you will be mine
forever entwined

dust to dust
ashes to ashes

we will rise.

© 2008 Michael J. Earnshaw.

"Shadow Play."

I stare rejection in the face
before I go to bed
each night

It smiles as if it knows
everything I'm yet to feel

burns into the carcass it betrays

a shadow play.

Single droplets dissipate

tormented

I look beyond,
try to see
understand that this is it

this is me

I can't.

I close my eyes and turn
catching for a moment

herself move

she reaches out

I walk away.

© 2008 Michaela James.

one corner

Tears as trinkets
unlike diamonds

shiver with pain

one corner of the room
displayed yet
shadowed by the hand that caressed another.

The void of sanity enveloped
with each blow
seared

torched by words of sorrow

one corner of the mind
hidden yet
reflected in the shallow cry of silence.

I saw myself

slumped
engorged

piety drowned

one corner of the box

lit for a moment
before the darkness took me.

© 2008 Michaela James.

Soften The Sorrow.

Blind my eyes
So my shadow won't scare me

Sever my hands
So I can never hold onto the past

Deafen my ears
So I may hear silence eternal

Sew my lips
For they shall utter no more

Tales of abandoned truth.

Wrap my lungs in clouds of smoke
So the air I exhale chokes

Carve my flesh with the quill
So my pores bleed empty

Pluck my heart with the blade
So the beat inevitably slows

And pickle my mind
For it shall soften the sorrow

Of my everlasting final thought.

© 2008 Michaela James.

'The Price Of Life.'

Born without choice

ironic
the unknown fear
hidden
the depth of life

reality seldom realised

walking the dead.

Each green mile
subconsciously
eaten

youth

day
by
month
by
year.

I cry one billion tears
unknown to my consciousness

as the clock beckons with it's etched face,
each finger glides

wags
never weary

guiding our way to darkness.

I need to take the slow path
as each line appears

never fade,
they crawl across mankind

as the quick path beckons
with demons of excess

the price of life?

Death.

© 2008 Michaela James.

'Myself & I.'

'Myself & I.'

You toss and

turn

crumpled

unlike a blank page,

creases permanent.

Can you hear me?

the taunts that wake you.

Can you see me?

the shadows that lash your bed.

Can you feel me?

the footsteps you imagine

real.

I am hidden within the mind's riddle

darker than night,

reaching each corner,

grasping at your purgatory

licking the flames of

sympathy's hand held empathy-

the child-like figure

peering thro' the frosted window

pleading for

the deep sleep-

until then

I'll circle your being

devour your life,

drown your dreams.

© 2008 Michaela James.