Small words that cut so deep
Ominous the sound,
Inside an audible snap
Why did I not sound the knell then?
Optimism never does pay in full
Kind breath absent,
Raised the sword arm
To sever the ties
And it fell limply at my side
A wound so deep how it did pour
And I with no will to stop its flow,
Cannot meet my own eyes
Cloak the mirrors in black satin
Just keep wafting by
Fingers at my wrist
Never a day will come
Where I am absent the wish
My pride had been strong enough
To put myself first
Never have I been that girl
So high the price I pay,
So low on my knees
Head pressed to the floor,
This piece inside crying -
Lower I can go
Shove my head through the floor
There is not a place for me above
Near as I can tell
The message sent loud and clear –
We do not want you here
© Christina Nabity
Written August 6, 2012
May contain MATURE content. Reader Discretion Advised.
Usually write free verse poems, usually tapping into the horror madness & grief areas. What can I say - I haz pain and poetry is very healthy outlet for it.
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Shadow Upon a Rose
A broken heart and shattered mind,
Darkness rings true for her tonight,
Love that should not be scorned,
Rivers can be torn apart,
Shadow upon a rose
Overthrows the dew
Arisen this cold morning
Enshrouded of mist
Too near the graveyard
That wasn’t there before
Wraithen glimmers creep closer
That subtle flower hides these none
Duty to persevere
Stricken shallow
The rose is covered now
Somber is the taste of midnight
Riven from the bone
Forced as a veil upon the day
Wash the haze from mine eyes,
Scour the dregs
A yield of shades of oblivion,
Reckless hindsight
No tolerance of foreshadow
The thing is done
© Christina Nabity
Written August 6, 2012
Darkness rings true for her tonight,
Love that should not be scorned,
Rivers can be torn apart,
Shadow upon a rose
Overthrows the dew
Arisen this cold morning
Enshrouded of mist
Too near the graveyard
That wasn’t there before
Wraithen glimmers creep closer
That subtle flower hides these none
Duty to persevere
Stricken shallow
The rose is covered now
Somber is the taste of midnight
Riven from the bone
Forced as a veil upon the day
Wash the haze from mine eyes,
Scour the dregs
A yield of shades of oblivion,
Reckless hindsight
No tolerance of foreshadow
The thing is done
© Christina Nabity
Written August 6, 2012
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Echoes of a Frozen Soul
For one second, I allowed peace at the sight of you;
The hammer fell before it was swung
Not long after, the axe came too
Head still attached
World in the rearview mirror
Pump it full of lead
But nothing prevents such deadly bites
Always the same echo
Heartbeat stilled
Motion yet imbued
Slow
Yet cannot outrun
Never pulled the trigger in time;
Time stands still
Rewind
Outcome never transforms
Efforts never cease,
The blade is always sharp
Not the end result that concerns me now
It’s the route;
Path of flame soaked rocks
No water to slide through
Molten soiled splinters,
My hand stayed at the trigger
Memories repeat
A stranger grins somewhere
It comes
Can I trickle through?
Bled on the afterburn
Scalding ice shattered in two
Blistered heart
Trust erased
Fingering the scalpel,
Frozen soul
Eclipsed by the shadow
As shadows so often do,
Coursing through my veins
Tidal waves of an ilk
An ilk of snakes
Wavering lines in time
Ashen face in the mirror
And that is not me
She weaves this net;
Next falls the sword
Caught mid air
Purge the night
The rain that explodes
The river ran red
Trip the wire
Sing the dirge
Fashioned a garrote then,
Swarm entwines
Never escapes the starlight,
Asphyxiate just a little longer,
Slice right through
Heart’s on fire again
Mandolin on the vine
Tremor in the storm
Run while the shadow sleeps
And slow dead things creep,
I hear your funeral song
And know it was always mine
Perceptions shift and slip
Slick conclusions
Mixed delusion in the shift
Torrent of misapprehended grief;
Gather the wild anemones
And soldier on
I’ll meet you again on the other side
© Christina Nabity
Written June 28, 2012
As I wrote this is somehow began to sound as though I was writing about zombies, so I allowed it to twist that way, though what I really was writing about was some emotional pain….as usual. Funny how often a poem will start out that way and wind up all supernatural horror stuffs…guess those things are a metaphor for that kind of pain anyhow.
The hammer fell before it was swung
Not long after, the axe came too
Head still attached
World in the rearview mirror
Pump it full of lead
But nothing prevents such deadly bites
Always the same echo
Heartbeat stilled
Motion yet imbued
Slow
Yet cannot outrun
Never pulled the trigger in time;
Time stands still
Rewind
Outcome never transforms
Efforts never cease,
The blade is always sharp
Not the end result that concerns me now
It’s the route;
Path of flame soaked rocks
No water to slide through
Molten soiled splinters,
My hand stayed at the trigger
Memories repeat
A stranger grins somewhere
It comes
Can I trickle through?
Bled on the afterburn
Scalding ice shattered in two
Blistered heart
Trust erased
Fingering the scalpel,
Frozen soul
Eclipsed by the shadow
As shadows so often do,
Coursing through my veins
Tidal waves of an ilk
An ilk of snakes
Wavering lines in time
Ashen face in the mirror
And that is not me
She weaves this net;
Next falls the sword
Caught mid air
Purge the night
The rain that explodes
The river ran red
Trip the wire
Sing the dirge
Fashioned a garrote then,
Swarm entwines
Never escapes the starlight,
Asphyxiate just a little longer,
Slice right through
Heart’s on fire again
Mandolin on the vine
Tremor in the storm
Run while the shadow sleeps
And slow dead things creep,
I hear your funeral song
And know it was always mine
Perceptions shift and slip
Slick conclusions
Mixed delusion in the shift
Torrent of misapprehended grief;
Gather the wild anemones
And soldier on
I’ll meet you again on the other side
© Christina Nabity
Written June 28, 2012
As I wrote this is somehow began to sound as though I was writing about zombies, so I allowed it to twist that way, though what I really was writing about was some emotional pain….as usual. Funny how often a poem will start out that way and wind up all supernatural horror stuffs…guess those things are a metaphor for that kind of pain anyhow.
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