Porcelain Lies.

 

There’s a face she makes for the men.

A thin touch of lips,

that should go down as a frown,

but whose edges never quite dip.

 

While the creaks of her cheeks suggest a smile,

the smooth ‘round her eyes,

and the lack of all lines,

betray that her grin’s insincere.

 

She shouldn’t need this façade.

Her words should suffice,

her tone should instruct.

Her voice, should be enough.

 

But.

 

They’ll call her a fraud.

Tell her to be nice.

Mind her conduct.

“Try not to play rough.”

 

Forced into masquerade.

 

Face held in porcelain masks.

 

As fragile she’s seen,

so as fragile she’ll be,

and there’s symmetry when the mask’s just the same.

 

It’s the look of disgust that can’t be shown in the open,

and the rage that still simmers but can’t boil over.

 

Her emotions are sunrises that cannot be dawned,

but only because they’ve all agreed to keep raising the skyline.

 

So.

 

She sets this one look on her face,

with a smile that can’t reach her eyes.

And if she had to express what she’s feeling,

she’d lie, and say it’s all fine.

Prolonging Their Pretending

An unrelenting choir chirps,
Announcing an end to the night.
Warmth pours in through bedroom window
Glazing the walls in amber light.

Amy pulls her husband closer,
Taking in the scent of his sweat.
It tastes like sandalwood and salt,
Tinged with tobacco and regret.

“Dawn is here, Ed. Should we get up?”
Her lips tighten, her breath quivers.
“No,” he says, holding her tighter,
And against his chest, she shivers.

Amy stares over his shoulder
At a pile of clothes on the floor.
Avoiding the glowing window,
And the misleading bedroom door.

“We could go down to the diner.”
Her tongue trips slightly on the words.
Prolonging their pretending that
The chirping is coming from birds.

“Have our usual and coffee,”
Ed’s stubble tickles on her ear.
His head tips back to catch her eyes;
Wet with nostalgia, love, and fear.

“You’ll order bacon, I’ll object.”
“I’ll say it’s fine, I took my meds.”
“I’ll playfully swat at your hand.
Like back when we were newlyweds.”

But neither Ed nor Amy moves
To release from their locked embrace.
Their words no more than fantasy,
They’ve been ordered to stay in place.

Hours ago they woke up thinking
A neighbor forgot to hit snooze.
They curled under the blankets when
Their phones lit up with dreadful news.

The eighth floor was already lost.
Burnt to the bones, and near collapse.
The penthouse apartments above
Will be the next scenic deathtraps.

A breath hitches in Amy’s throat,
Ed kisses her sweat-dewed forehead.
“I love you so much,” he whispers.
"My heart can hardly feel the dread."

“I love you too, you silly fool.”
Goosebumps raise, freckling her skin.
She wants to tell him all the ways,
But doesn’t know where to begin.

The room is getting hotter now,
And Amy’s throat begins to swell.
Smoke seeps in through the window cracks,
Filling her nostrils with its smell.

Ed and Amy cling together
Neither saying what each one knows.
Her husband’s heart beats in her ears,
As Amy's eyes begin to close.

---

WC: 339
Music Inspiration

[ineligible for voting]

---

The Twelve Days of Drama

---

“I tell you, Elsa, I’m not truly a liar…

Lily cannot handle it yet; she’s just a child.

So we’ll have milk and cookies and tamp down the fire.

Now, come here and snuggle; let’s keep things nice and mild.”

---

“But c’mon, Jim, he’s just some old guy in a sleigh,

With a silly-ass, red-nosed reindeer he calls a pet,

Wearing a furry suit who flies far and away!

If alive, he would be a watchlist-level threat!”

---

“Look at you, El’, being all judgmental and stuff.

The guy is not real: just a pleasant fiction.

Let me just say it: enough is more than enough.

There is just no hecking need for all this friction.”

---

“Next you will say I’m being dramatic and rash!

Face it: this jolly old elf you love is a creep!

Given a chance, he’d burn this whole damn house to ash!

And no, I won’t stop the eggnog and go to sleep!”

---

“Elsa, babe… sweetie, stop glaring at me like that.

I’m your husband, honey pie, not your gosh dang foe.

Look at Molly: you’re even scaring the poor cat.

And don’t cut off the eggnog, but please take it slow.”

---

“That’s so fucking it—I’m done, Jim. I want a divorce!

You cannot lie and win ‘Parent of the Year,’ too!

Stop staring—you’ll have to take this eggnog by force!!

And what I said about Santa, you know it’s true!!!”

---

WC: 235

---

Thanks for reading! Feedback is always appreciated

In lieu of the blackest of lies:

Red lies are drawn up from the well of spite,

Blue lies are turning away from the light

Green lies are given with a stretched-out grin

But white lies lie out of reach of sin.

Silver lies are announced with a speech on a stage,

Gold lies are snares leading into a cage.

Copper lies twist with the twist of a wire

White lies burn gently, dull shadows of fire.

Red lies taken back in the midst of a moment

Blue lies end with the end of the torment

Green lies fade if pride chooses to fall

But white lies aren't regretted...

...why regret them at all?

WC:107

I’m Good, I’m Right, I’m Not Scary

You were my young friend,
my apprentice, my heir. I knew
you trusted me. I knew you
were mine.

I told you how some people
are just awful. They find some reason
to get offended, but I know it’s just because
they don’t like to see a woman like me
speak up. You smiled. You told me
you will always listen
when I speak.

Some idiots went behind my back,
and then said they did it because
they felt scared to talk to me!
I rolled my eyes. Am I really
that scary? You smiled.
You said no.

I spoke highly of you and our
special connection, and you
always smiled. You said
you loved me. You said I was
your favorite person.

I could speak too loosely and
now and then you came to me
with some slip up of words you felt
I had made. I always explained.
I would do that for you. And then
you would smile and say
it’s okay.

Sooner or later you would stop
your complaints. I told you
I was trying. I told you how
I was suffering, and truly I was,
dealing with so very much.
You prayed for me. You cried
with me. You said you loved me.
And you smiled.

The Gathering After

Hallow table they gather round
Prodigal pilgrimage family bound
Chameleon smiles, eyes not met
Time apart, misspent, regret

Fewer feast now than the last
Lesser next the grim forecast
Mother’s here — yet she is not
Hollow eyes, frail body rot

Table set, save the head
Seat reserved for the dead
Silence reigns between brothers
Sister speaks insincere to others

Cinnamon, clove, sweet perfume
Juxtapose black hanging gloom
While pained feelings underneath bake
False penitence given — for Mom’s sake

Hands held in circled prayer
Between three siblings a veiled glare
Father’s gone, now mom is too
Next time they meet there’ll be but two

Wc:103
Critic welcome

Christmas Nights

Black moods, on dark nights, under bright lights filled with many mights;

Might the coming days banish the blight? Might they clear the haze,

Of black coffees on black days where clouds block the bright lights?

He tells himself it will be over, the break is yet to come,

So he comes to work, and works till broken and patches the holes with rum.

Christmas is coming, the bells do toll, carols sang and presents sold,

Wrappings done by tired hands, shaky things weaving tired plans;

He’ll go to sleep early, and wake up bright, so he drinks his black coffees into dark nights.

The days are nearing, world wrapped green and red,

His eyes are weary, tongue parched on lean drinks,

His only winter’s a tumblers' ball that makes his bed.

The day is here, his work is done, his bones hurt but now is time for fun,

So he comes home, the missus are glee’d, and he turns to rest, and is not seen,

The morning comes, the presents unwrapped, squeals fill halls and he remains in his nap,

And as the white turns gold under bright fading light, she does kiss his brow and bid him goodnight.

The presents are for everyone, even those who work,

No child is given to alone, when everyone is hurt,

And so he takes his restful gift, enters those dark nights without a fit.

Christmas has gone, he rises awake, his coffee bright and his eyes alight,

He’d lied of course, the plan awry, but he cannot answer why,

Answer why it mattered so, to give and give till he was bones,

And so he walks out into tired nights, no longer dragging lies of white.

---

WC: 287

Crit and feedback much appreciated

Love Unbreakable

I believed Jackson would be with me forever. Despite this, life had thrown us to the wolves, and neither returned who we once were before.

For me, it was my legs. They were now useless without their bionic scaffolding. I'd lost much more than that, but few knew what was truly gone. A chunk of steel remained lodged in my lower spine, making me the last link of my genetic history – my DNA chain broken for all time.

Jackie – wasn't so lucky.

When we first met, he was taller – human – and also a guy. Jackie died protecting me once. When I saw him again, she was very much alive, albeit in another form…

As the embers of war drifted away, winter settled atop the Tectonic Highlands. We waited for what would happen next, his ultimate fate unknown.

The mountaintop village slumbered beneath a layer of dusty Nowhereian snow. It was their planetary solstice, a time of luminescent celebration. The air was crisp as twin crescent moons hung at different attitudes in the blackened sky. Windows along the main avenue were decorated for the season, their incandescent glow casting amber light that held the frozen night at bay.

Jackie silently offered me an elbow as I walked beside him. I smiled and hooked myself to him, leaning in to smother the frigid cold. We paused for a moment. Peering into a foggy window, we now stood nearly eye to eye. He glanced at me in the pale reflection, and it was clear his cobalt eyes saw the same person from before. My heart ached because I couldn't say the same.

A four-armed woman stood beside me where Jackie's reflection should've been. A long hooded jacket was pulled tight across her chest, crimson gloves covering each of her alien hands. Her crooked smile was his, yet little else remained from before.

I tried to look past what Jackie’d outwardly become – to see him instead as he'd always been. As a friend, that was true. As for the other thing…

Oh, how I wish it was so.

How could I tell him? It would crush his soul I just knew. Yet, the idea of being with another woman romantically – even if it were him – wasn't something that could come naturally.

Jackie took my hand, and we continued on, my strained conscience gnawing at the corners of my mind.

He was the first to break the silence. “Is everything alright, Lex?”

I stopped beside him, the machinery encapsulating my legs falling silent as I grasped his eyes with mine. The question had cut to the core of my doubt. Things weren't alright, but it wasn’t because of him. The ghost of Xavier Cyun gnawed at the periphery of reality – his wicked smirk manifesting itself in a scar burned deep into my cheek.

“I'm okay – I think…”

Jackie was silent. He nodded, understanding like no other man could. The Tradesman’s scar was branded into his flesh, the same as mine, another monument as to why we could never be again.

Nevertheless, we remained, facing one another together. Snowflakes drifted around us like dust mites in the muted amber glow. For a moment, I tried, and he drew us close. My heart rattled inside its cage. Eyes closed, my imagination conjured his human form again.

Shattering this impossibility were her axillary hands, resting gently on my hips. She embraced me with her primary arms around my back, and I flinched. Willing myself closer, I tried to remember what we once were. She placed her forehead against mine and sighed, retreating as he realized my simmering anxiety.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered softly in her voice. “I shouldn't have tried that...”

We slid apart, the universe clear that was not how things would be.

“Don't be sorry.” I whispered graciously. “None of this is your fault.”

He feigned a smile, his thoughts translucent across his brow.

“C’mon, Lex.” He pointed toward the open cafe across the street. “Let's get outta the cold for a while.”

I suppose he knew there was nothing left to be said. His few words were enough, and they stole me away for a time. Snow crunched beneath our boots as we made our way forward arm-in-arm. Behind us, footprints slowly disappeared with the wind and drifting time.

As the years have gone on, we never broke the promise made that night. When I married Colin, Jackie wore honored colors at my side. Now I find myself beside her – waiting for another life to arrive… .

Years ago they came

The ones from the great Darkness

My dad began work

.

A blacksmith by trade

All through the days and the nights

His apprentice I was

.

By blood, not by choice

A role I may have despised

But needed by all

.

We made swords and shields

Arms and armor, rich and poor

And bows and arrows

.

One night, he fell ill

And by day, he fell for good

Leaving me as Smith

.

All alone, I was

Unable to make enough

Soldiers ill-equipped

.

We were swept by day

And left our homes in darkness

The night was too long

.

Without material

We gathered what we could

And they came to me

.

"Smith," said the new Lord

"We need many arms and armor.

Like your father, did."

-

I never said no

I merely said I might help

...yet, they knew I lied...

-

I was exiled

For abandonment of them

For my betrayal

.

And yet I admit

In my new free destiny

...I regret my choice...

.

I was quite stubborn

And I was once a great fool, then

Though I must admit

.

If I went to them

Given yet another chance

Would I leave once more?

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