Kitchen Floors Are a Place of Death

What is the point of a heart that does break,
when it can be open for someone to take?
When it can be bruised beneath every pound
by the fist of truth as it gets passed around?
A heart is made of tissue that is easily torn
by the teeth of the evil behind lips that scorn.
A heart is comprised of more than just love,
it carries your liquid life in the form of blood;
The life that flows through your entire body
that is released by daggers thrown constantly
until your life flows freely from your mortal flesh
and you're left in the puddle bleeding to death.
So why is it love that hurts so much more
than bleeding to death on the kitchen floor?
Why is it that cuts have such better appeal?
Perhaps because they are easier to heal?
Because a superhero masked as Band-Aid
is always around to save the day?
The broken heart, shattered by a blow
leaks out the love and how painfully it flows,
like lava crawling over all of your skin;
and your stomach continually tries to cave in.
Your eyes cry and cry for weeks upon end
like rainfall God used to flood the Earth way back then.
You rain and you storm, and sit all alone
in such a full world staring blankly at the phone.
Broken hearts are a mission to finally mend
and you swear on your life you won't do it again.
But you fall victim to such a beautiful face
and once again you find yourself in that horrific place,
You look into a mirror and see a monster staring back;
you walk with your guns out, ready for an attack.
A heart is full of love that is just another treasure
that the pirates to steal because they love the pleasure
of robbing something, just to have for show.
In the process they don't give a rip or even know
how it feels as your heart flies amongst the bullets.
Or maybe they're completely numb to all of it
because they have had their hearts beaten down,
left to bleed out love to death on the ground.
Breakable hearts are more than just a painful curse;
opening up your chest to pull it out is so much worse.
To see such a vital organ lying in your hand
brusied and stitched, held together by a rubber band
is more than disturbing or a pitiful revelation.
Theuseless creature is in surrender, completely done.
Its beats don't sing anymore as they once were able.
Breakable hearts in the chest make one unstable.
With my mangled heart in my hand there is nothing more
than to leave it helpless and bleeding to death in its puddle on the kitchen floor.

This Color of Death - C.E.

"This Color of Death."

Guns & Rainbows
I once knew a girl
with a colorful gun.
It was painted red.
And orange.
And yellow.
And green.
And blue.
And purple.
What did this gun
say about this girl?
I don’t really know -
but it sure was colorful!

Bullets & Rainbows
I once knew a girl
with a colorful gun.
I smiled when she
pulled it out;
those colors made me smile -
until she pointed the
barrel at my face
and said,
"My gun may be colorful,
but these bullets are
black and white."

Love/Angst, LA - C.E.

"Love/Angst, LA"

There he stands, right outside my window;
majestic and huge, noisy and beautiful.
So colorful and wonderful and uniform
where everyday’s a new day and that’s the norm.
When I leave, despite the place, you know I miss you.
Like a lover long since gone, I wanna kiss you,
because you’re the arms that are opened wide
after I selfishly decide
to cheat on you with those other places
and fall in love with those other faces.
But like a drug I come back home
and here you are grinning madly because you know,
the slave always returns to its master,
and after long flights I wanna see you faster.
Homecoming, you look so pretty
but that I tend to forget how you can be so gritty,
LA, you city of lost angels.
Of lights and cameras - where everybody goes
because they believe that this man will make them famous.
And for a moment, when I’m away, I fall amiss
to the notion that your promises do exist.
And when you hold me for a while
I start to cry just like a child
because these road maps lead me in so many directions
and its hard to know where I should take my attention.
After being here and life starts up
I tend to find that my golden cup
is filled with ash you kindly gave me, LA -
I love you but you make me angst day by day.
You make me wanna be with you
but then beat me down, and when you’re through
I wanna leave all over again; stupidly, I admit
because you harvest all my fears and regret;
all the problems manifest while I’m away “living.”
And when I’m home I get spoon fed all you’re giving.
I wish you had whiter writing on your green signs
so that I could read every word and understand every line.
I wish you’d dim the lights a bit so I can focus
and what’s beyond the shadows and fulfill my cause.
These feelings play within me like that reoccurring dream
about the T-Rex that is always trying to eat me,
and I negociate and explain why he shouldn’t eat me
but still I have to run because he won’t let me be.
Goodness, LA, I just want to be free.
I just want reassurance and guidance,
I want us to be in alliance.
I don’t want you to be my addiction any more
than I want to be lost beyond your guilded doors.
I grew up with you, my love, and this is how you make me feel
after twenty years you make me still think that I’m ill.
You make my brain fizzle out
with so much emotion and doubt
and I’m left walking through this labyrinth of buildings and streets
and wannabes attempting to pursue their own feats.
Why am I the crippled one who can’t seem to read the signs?
When did my ears stop working and my eyes go blind?
I love you, take my hand and help me walk with you.
I don’t want to be angsty, I just want to be through.
They think it’s sunny all the time here and it doesn’t rain
but it pours in my head and the muck doesn’t drain.
Homecoming is so beautiful
until I see the damages that you behold.
These damages that sit, waiting for me
every time my foot crosses over your seed.
And I return to my bondage - those coarse ties
that choke my mind and blindfold my eyes.
I just want that one arrow that tells me where to go.
Try to love me, LA, like you promised me ages ago.

I've Hurt Myself by Hurting You - C.E.

"I've Hurt Myself by Hurting You" (Title from "Hurt" by Christina Aguilera)
To: J.

I smile
but there is still the pain of you
that coats the color of my lips.
I laugh
but there is still the pain of you
that undertones every sound.
I live
but there is still that pain of you
that pricks my insides from your absence.
I speak
and even though it is to everyone but you
two words want to escape to find your ears:
I'm sorry.

Speaking With Your Eyes, Which Are The Mouths of Your Soul - C.E.

"Speaking With Your Eyes, Which Are The Mouths of Your Soul."

He stared at the older woman
intensely, never breaking his gaze,
eying her crippled posture -
that had been decaying for years,
I assumed.
And in his intense stare
he did not realize that I was staring
at him
for staring.

A poem of darkness and faith and of Home - C.E.

"A poem of darkness and faith and of Home."

Sometimes I wonder why
Black comes with white;
Or why days must always
Succumb to the night;
Why good cannot win
While evil is alive,
Why people are born and live
Only to die.
Why trust is broken and
Innocence is taken;
Many have everything
While others, forsaken.
Hatred flows freely
And prejudices flare,
Yet God somehow manages
To keep Love here;
The fire of hope still
Burns in a few
Who have chosen to keep
Its flame glowing and true.
Those few who strive daily
to make this world a better place,
I can see all of the faith on your Godface;
Our God keeps us safe
In these decadent days
Where lost men worship and
Give emptiness praise.
We must fight through the shadows
That consume the light
And battle the demons
That inspire false delight;
And when the war’s over
And death’s done and through,
My Lord I know that
We’ll be coming home to You;
To that place where angels
And seraphs daily sing,
And hopelessness knows
Not a thing;
Where all are in paradise
And suffering is through;
God I will wade through
Life’s darkness
To come home to You.

The expression your mouth makes when the feeling of happiness courses through your veins - C.E.

"The expression your mouth makes while the feeling of happiness courses through your veins."

Smile, smile -
not just once in a while;
now lately.
Satan hates me,
‘cause I glow
like a child.
Your voice -
like a choice -
that I choose;
let’s me loose,
makes me free.
So happy
to be smiling.
Wasn’t my thing
since he broke me.
So happy
to be smiling,
and so thankful.
God’s an angel.
Biggest grin.
Deep within
my heart is swelling;
I’m close to yelling
because the way
you move me
is compelling.
Different, same -
there’s glue to remain.
It holds us.
controls us;
it’s not
like a game.
This puzzle -
it’s pieces -
will fit together
again.
Until then
I’ll just smile
in no form
of denial
of how girly
you make me
by just being
you.

The Inevitability of Seperate Ways - C.E.

“The Inevitability of Separate Ways.”

It's hard when you've reached the end of the road.
The journey was long, now there's nowhere to go.
You stand on the edge, the free fall so far.
When looking inside, do you know who you are?
Do you know who you were, back in those days?
When the path had just started, excitement ablaze,
to begin such an adventure; to start something new.
The message was clear - you knew what to do.
You knew where to go, didn't know where it would end.
But that's where we stand, my once-ablaze friend.
The fire is gone and what's left are the ashes
of times spent learning and loving and sadness;
But with every hello there must be a goodbye,
and that's where it ends and we stand, you and I.
There’s no use in trying to build us a bridge
when the fork in this road leads each to a ledge.
You have your means now, and I have my own.
Who we once were has officially grown,
into two separate lives that neither do venture.
I’m not sure when that line divided our adventure.
All that I know now is that this is where I leave.
No time to dwell on the past; that was then, let it be.
You’ve chosen your road, and I’ve reached my edge.
You’ve gone your own way; my toes hang over the ledge.
Who knows how far down, how fast I will fall;
that journey itself will deliver it all.
My faith in what was has diminished away.
Now I’ll take the plunge and start my new way.
Goodbye to you; good luck ‘til the last.
I’ll see you again, should I visit the past.