yule tide

The rain sweeps across the highway outside of my window.
the trailing sounds of heavy wheels discharging the water,
a phantom moan of disappearing strangers.
Into the darkness they vanish.
It's Christmas night, I have gorged.
The addiction, compensating for what's no longer here.
The emptiness, the shadow play in my mind.
It can't be like this forever can it?
My psyche tugging my body with marionette strings
fueled by apathy.

I listen, the sounds of the rain drops pelting,
the asphalt, the Doppler effect.
If I commit myself enough.
If I focus enough.

I will become transparent,
I will become translucent,
I will lift into the sky like
the dampness does by morning time.

phone tag

The final insult flung, she spat venom into my ear
through electric currents.
Flustered, frustrated, beyond repair.
I, monotone, defiantly replied "Don't call me anymore."
Thinking I was bluffing, a tiny cackle crept into her words
"Okay."
She smiled at the other end of the line, proud of not giving a shit.
I ended the call on my cell shaking with a static fury.
Two years later she calls again, and for the fifth time
I pass on picking it up, on hearing her voice again.
She is enveloped in the passage of time.

Welcome to the ether, bitch.

verbal spar.

she called me an idiot. Ironically, I knew deep down, she was a moron. Vapid, empty, hollow shell of a deliciously sculptured goddess. We were made for each other like a bent key for a broken lock. I stared into her deep black eyes as she kept mouthing unintelligable words . . . my peace was diminished, I burst into flames.