To Lose

In truth, there’ll always be

Another ‘everything’ to lose,

It is a lie that an eye that sees

Can run out of tears;

/

And a heart that beats

Is a heart that hurts;

The same mind that knows

Is the mind that errs;

And the warmest voice

Sometimes surely whispers

The coldest words;

/

In truth, there’ll always be

Another ‘everything’ to lose;

And it is a lie that the pain decreases

Or that one gets used to it;

/

Still, a heart that beats

Is a heart that hopes;

And a mind that errs

Is a mind that learns;

And the coldest voice

Sometimes surely whispers

The kindest words;

/

In truth, there’ll always be

Another ‘everything’ to lose,

Till you’re naught but breath and a pair of wings,

Made of what was once

Your everything

A Million Ways

I wish to know a million ways to hurt:

With fist and sword,

With smile, with thought and word,

So from a million ways to hurt

I could protect you,

Who lives at war with the world

Your own mind has created;

/

I’ll learn my arts

From pretend saints and their demons,

From those, who buy what can’t be bought,

Who, to sell water, cause a draught,

From those, who drench their lands in blood

As if to please not their confused hearts

But a god;

/

I’ll sprout a million hands

And place in each a weapon;

I’ll grow a million heads

And poison each with ignorance;

I’ll stand on a million legs so strong,

With each my step the Earth will shake,

And I will slay, destroy and dance

Until but dust – and you – remain;

/

I wished to know a million ways to hurt,

So I could give you this clean sheet

To paint a world,

Where there’s no need for pain or fear,

Or monsters of unalterable pasts;

Where none finds joy in harming or in suffering;

Where there’s no place for me, at last

Cinderella Walks

My shoes of dazzling diamonds

Have spikes on the inside;

The beauty I see when I walk

They turn into scorchingly painful nightmares;

/

My dresses, which like spring waters flow –

Were hand-woven from living adders;

When I walk, their touch makes my skin crawl

And my veins – overflow with venom;

/

My smile is the gate to my heart –

It’s a scar that refuses to heal,

Proudly showing itself to the world as I walk;

I once believed naively that scars, too, had appeal;

/

My eyes from two grains of grey sand

Have grown into two mountains of granite;

I carry my mountains wherever I walk,

And dance on their slopes with bleeding feet,

A crippled smile, wearing Cinderella’s cerement

Together

You smile good-bye,

And I despise you

With every fiber

Of my heart:

/

Did you not tell me

That you loved me –

But just enough

To wish me luck?

/

You see exactly

Where I’m going;

You understand

I won’t return;

/

I value it

That you should trust me –

So blindly

You would watch me turn

/

To dust, and still expect

Next morning

To feel my hand,

In yours clasped tightly:

/

I’ll joke about the

Death I’d died and

Lie to your face

That all is fine;

/

Yet, when you even try

To stop me,

I simply laugh

Into your eyes;

/

No, not because

I’m mad and callous,

But because I find weakness

Funny;

/

You should have listened

When they told you,

‘She looks it,

But she isn’t nice,’

/

Sadly, your heart

Did not choose wisely;

Sadly, you followed it

And now…

/

You can’t let go

Without it seeming

That you don’t love me

As you should,

/

Nor can you stop me

When I leave; sadly,

I can’t imagine

How you would;

/

What is it called,

This game of grasping,

Of letting go,

Of pain and patience,

/

A game

For miserable losers

Who play not with each other

But themselves?

Dorian Gray/The Map

How heavy you’ve become,

My eyelids!

How small and pale you look,

My lips!

/

How many branches

Have the wrinkles

Upon this tree

Of memories!

/

How many deaths

Have closed these eyes and

How many times

This skin has been reborn!

/

How many lives,

In one assembled,

Make up the face

I call my own!

/

I look at it –

How I abhor it:

The greed it stands for,

The impatience!

/

I look at it –

And I rejoice to

See painted on it

Love, forgiveness, grace;

/

One thing is certain –

There’s no room for

Another route

Upon this busy map;

/

The only place

That it can lead to

Is but another

Hellish maze;

/

I’ll rip that map

To puzzle pieces;

And draw a new one

In its place;

/

All I have been

And all I’ve cherished

I must let go of

And replace;

/

Beyond regret,

In a chest of treasures,

I’ll keep

The puzzle of the past;

/

And none will see

The real face of

Dorian Grey

Until he dies