Yes, the title was completely serious. No, that sentence wasn't sarcastic, either. Honestly, I'm uncertain about what I should write here. I haven't really shared anything that I've written in any kind of public way (excepting the occasional short story or poem) for... a number of years now. I suppose the most pertinent thing to mention is that I write, primarily, confessional poetry and character-driven short stories -- and both have a tendency to be quite dark, potentially disturbing. Shocking, right? Anyway, for that reason, I'll post anything in this topic within spoilers -- although I don't really expect anyone to have a problem with something I've written, I've found that it's better to forewarn than not to. In any case, just to get this topic started, I have three poems which I wrote relatively recently and do not wish to submit for publication, so... here they are. (Oh, and one last thing: I absolutely love critique and criticism of anything I do -- I want to get better, and the best way to do that is to know your own weaknesses. So please, if you have any comments or criticisms, say so. I would love to hear what you have to say.) Choking on Roses Spoiler I want to know the taste of your fingertips, So listless, The contours as they trace the lines Of these flowers we left so far behind; To be so murderous, Swallowing the loveless: Ring fingers are my Christ, But this is not communion And you won't climb off your cross. Lilies For Spoiler Water laps upon the shore, irrespective, The air a murmur -- tremulous: To be salt-stained and caressed, but The tears would just dilute it. There are no words for this hatred. The sky is just to scream, And I'm pregnant with your emptiness -- But this metaphor is a shattering mirror, And I'm just an abortion placed in this cradle To so playfully drown: After all, What better way to die Than to fill my lungs with life? "But better to build bridges," you said, So I sold you one to cross -- And I'll savor the taste of your sweat As the skin peels and burns. Narcissus would be proud, After all: I only became selfish Once what I did affected you. Teeth Spoiler I want you to eat the words I never spoke. This emptiness, vague reminiscence, These silent lines Running through shallowed veins And pouring out my eyes -- The sinew and sawdust, The mist of bones and earth, The heart and lungs And all the spaces in between -- Words of God and whispers of truth, Quiet lies and The shadows left in the pale Of unforgiving light. I could be what's left of this: The hair and bone wrapped in twine, The fear and pulling of puppet strings, or I could swallow this innocence And vomit the dreams.