My Love for the Pumpkin King

 

Dear Jack, 

  Mr. Mask. 

    He who holds the skeleton key. 

Won't you stop that smile, 

  Sinisterly stealth, 

Oh Jack, 

  My Pumpkin King. 

Sow me so, but don't sing and dance 

 Rather why don't you leave that to me. 

Oh Jack, my Darling...

  Loving you still 

In our bones of eternity. 

The night is painted, of Dali's & Vangogh's

  But only the deep colors of everything 

and the darkest hues and all the blues 

That allow our hearts to sing. 

Oh Darkened Knight, headless too, 

  Where your head has gone, nobody knows. 

But it will always be, sown in me

My Pumpkin King's heart of old. 

Liquid Poetry: " Lonely is the Muse"

 

  By: Halsey

"I spent years becoming cool 

And in one single second you can make a decade of my efforts disappear 
I'm just waiting at the bar and you rip open all my scars 
By saying something like, "Didn't know you were here"

I always knew I was a martyr and that Jesus was one too 
But I was built from special pieces that I learned how to unscrew 
And I can always reassemble to fit perfectly for you 
Or anybody that decides that I'm of use

Lonely is the muse 
Ah 
Lonely is the muse

So, where do I go in the process when I'm just an apparatus? 
I've inspired platinum records, I've earned platinum airline status 
And I've mined a couple diamonds from the stories in my head 
But I'm reduced to just a body here in someone else's bed

I always knew I was a martyr and that Jesus was one too 
But I was built from special pieces that I learned how to unscrew 
And I can always reassemble to fit perfectly for you 
Or anybody that decides that I'm of use

Lonely is the muse 
Ah 
Lonely is the muse 
Ah

And I will always be a martyr, I will fill your life with songs 
I'll be a wind chime in the window, catching life you throw around

And I will tear apart your bedroom, I'll call you in the night 
I will exist in every second just to decorate your life 
And when you're done, you can discard me like the others always do 
And I will nurse my wounds until another artist stains me new

I will always reassemble to fit perfectly in you 
For anybody that decides that I'm of use

Lonely is the muse 
Ah 
Lonely is the muse 
Ah 
Lonely is the muse

Lonely and forgotten aside"

Liquid Poetry: "Now or Never"

 

    By: Halsey

Movie Night

 

Pseudo Dream, 

That I would sleep, 

  and next to you, 

I would be. 

and we watched Ghost, 

  and I smiled at you abashedly. 

You, 

  right back at me. 

and your eyes would say it all, 

So silently. 

Pseudo dream. 

Where you will forever be. 

What

 

What does it look like 

  when your needs are no longer met? 

When the chest tightens 

  on the right side? 

When addictions are enabled, 

  and met with more downplay, 

 and even more lush nights that follow, 

all while draping delicately, 

  The elephant skins 

  in the room? 

What does it mean, 

  when romantic moments are ruined, 

and lines of intimacy are no longer understood? 

When conversations are closed before they can be uttered? 

When actions are submissively done, regardless of the absence of love? 

What does it mean, 

  when flames burn arguments, 

    and no longer souls? 

When passion ignites torment, 

  and no longer hearts and bodies uniting? 

What shall then, 

  I make of such things, 

   and the long list still that follows? 

(And) I wonder 

  where you have gone? 

The one I love? 

  In all this?

What shall I make of these fragmented pieces and these shattered shells? 

What could you possibly do to return him to me? 

Because I see it not...

 

  after all. 

The Blues

 

Feeling the blues 

  of more and more 

  moments spent apart; 

our intersections not dwelling well, 

 anyhow. 

The distance grows between dialogues 

  and honesty, 

  not for lack of, but for lack of wanting to know. 

Everything is muffled like wearing earphones. 

          The distance grows. 

   Unsettling. 

Lost in the ocean 

  of it all...

Embered Ash

 

As he had left me alone, 

  so many times, 

there would be 

  no saving us. 

It is a different kind of love- one I have struggled to put words to over these past few years. 

He is protective, but controlling. 

He is brash and does not listen well. 

He takes care of my mother and me...

  but I often wonder, 

at what price? 

And where there had been love...

  I fear he may have snuffed the lot of it out; 

  only embered ash really, 

  that remains burning. 

I see no reasonable effort to fuel it from him. 

No notice of the fire dimming down. 

and I have lost the will now, 

to burn the forest down, 

To keep us hot. 

  To keep us warm, 

During these icy storms. 

I think it best now, 

  Leave it to him, 

Life or death. 

Freezing now. Unmoved by the dying ember 

  as I scry into it's last dying light. 

Rather hypnotized, instead...

     

           to it all.