Who said

It was ok for darkness

To settle its inky tendrils

Into my happy thoughts,

'til they give in like warmed ice?

Why can 

The light shine

But not cast away the gloom

Forever?

What is this inequality, I wonder. 

I see

The monster rise

But I

Feel no fear--

For I

Live for the moon's kisses,

For the

Water greeting Earth in an embrace;

I love

The rolling waves,

The crashing tides,

The molten crystal volleys;

I let

Her sooth the pain from my soar body,

And pull

Every other thought away

As we gaze

Up--

Into the sky, who eternally changes colours.

It

Is beautiful

She

Is beautiful 

And perhaps,

For just a moment

I think

Perhaps 

I

Am beautiful

Too.

I am a girl with a gap between my front teeth.

It’s a gap that I used to hate. 

A gap that I would hide by squeezing my lips shut every time I smiled.

A gap that I would stare at in the mirror, 

Hoping that if I wished hard enough, it would disappear.

It’s a gap that I’ve learned to love.

A gap that taught me that genuine smiles are the best.

A gap that taught me that I am more beautiful when I don’t try to hide.

A gap that taught me that I am better with my imperfections.

I am a girl with a gap between my front teeth,

And I am a girl who grins at herself in the mirror.

Cars glide by,

Phantoms of what used to be--

The sun shines gold

Flying high, escaping the suffocating sea; 

The trees gather dusk

On the black hollow boughs,

And claw wisps of morning dew

From its place woven into birght-coloured clouds. 

Red and blue tapestries flutter,

Words in white, neatly printed;

Painted hoops on waxed wooden floors--

Something that once trumpeted splendor. 

"Princess of the Night"

She is clad in dusklight:

The black-velvet sky is her gown,

The diamond stars, her diadem.

The soft, whispering wind is her unseen cloak,

The crickets' chirping, her fanfare.

The owls, with their jewel-bright eyes and shadowy wings, are her courtiers,

The opalescent eye of the moon, her pumpkin carriage.

Pegasus and Equuleus are her horses,

The frogs in the pond, her ungrateful sisters,

And the day, her prince. 

The waters rise

And so does my anxiety,

But when the water falls to its bed

Anxiety stays -- grimy, crusty, ugly.

The only other difference is the sucking-sand--

It wraps cold wet fingers 'round your skin,

Threatens to pull, to rope you right in;

I wish I could be fine--

Sinking below the sand.

I wish I could relax my muscles

And accept my grainy tomb. 

But my heart leaps into my throat

My brain buzzes with a need to escape

And my stomach vaults. 

~~~~~

Disclaimer: There's definitely a grain of personal experiences there, but overall its simply a narrative 'spoken' by an imaginary character.

The snowflakes dance down

Until they don't;

Then it's suddenly a race to the bottom

And they fall-- smack.

They hurl themselves about the pavement

Breath foreverafter lost--

And I wonder what makes the so exited to fall,

Why are they willing to go so far,

Just to diasappear upon a cold, hard floor?

Is it worth it?

Do they know of some superior parallel dimension,

Is that where they're going

When they appear to phase right through cement?

How many of them must fall

Before their broken bodies mean anything to us? 

I am filled with puzzlement. 

Winter is a hungry beast--

She devours life and warmth alike,

Swallows up sound and light as if to survive,

And has an insurmountable hunger for gobbling it all up,

A thirst unable to be quenched. 

She sinks her icy fangs into softer bones,

Bites and scratches at bare skin she's blindly found;

Thrashes howling winds when they blow,

And subjugates his flightly steeds for her own purposes.

She tosses her life-sapping flakes,

Lets them down until they lie in piles;

For she is a ruthless mother-beast

And will sacrifice as many of her water-borne children

As her fury and amusement requires,

While even a fearsome tiger protects its own cubs.