Candlelight and Asphalt

My nightmares

woke themselves up sick

with sticky alarm clock noises,

windows taken out

of their frameworks,

tiptoe tapping out

their despair

on the hardwood floor,

glass shards stripping

whilst I watched

their sharp edges twisting

in the moonlight streams.

I slumped over in my

queen size bed,

sheets

sweat sex soaked

by some brassy whispered man

who drank screwdrivers

and laughed,

to cover awkward moments and

my eyes staring

through his head

to the back wall of my room,

wondering when all this

silly business

would be over and

he could stumble out,

into the streets,

leave me alone

with my candlelight.

Whether you wanted

to watch or not,

I danced trauma

out the body,

flooding onto the asphalt,

the way music embarks

on a journey down

your insides,

in the heat of the

pulsing lights,

mirror and make-up masks,

ghosts in their taunting sanctuaries,

blood in vials,

singing out its sweet syrup requiem,

calling upon the angels,

wanting to again

tangle and twist

round bones,

thump in veins

that resurrected

ideas of hell of heaven,

depending on the worn out weather,

and the days and the way

waves of ether energy

circuited the brain.

I could feel myself

pushing new waltzing

people away,

putting up fronts

and barriers,

fences so fierce

and foreboding,

because deep under the earth inside me,

I wanted to trust you,

believe that I deserved

love like yours,

but still quivering

in my storms

that raged in me

and the learned path

of wicked brier,

death and abuse,

the past ripping

my pained flesh

away from my

tender skin,

couldn’t turn off the

mayhem and flashbacks,

harsh manipulations,

fucks that made

me nauseous,

rapes of my innocent self,

cascades of

gritty egos and

religious doctrines

forced on me

under the cruel guise

of love and helping me out,

away from my perceived dirty habits.

I didn’t want to be saved

by the nasty likes of you,

licking the wounds

on me,

that you yourself

had inflicted

and then laughed about.

I purged your toxins

out of my system,

all day,

every day,

with a frozen shudder

in hopes that

I can rise above you,

out of the murky marshes,

into the delicate arms of trees,

looking skyward.