Swords of Paper

Things In The Night

When I go to bed at night
I don’t get scared for me.
I’m frightened for everyone else
Both friends and family.

They don’t know what is waiting.
They’re completely unaware
Of things hiding in the corners
But not waiting just to scare.

These things, they want to hurt us
Eat us alive and steal our skin.
So many of them lurking
Where should I begin?

——-

Don’t go to bathroom
Once all the lights are dark.
He’s hiding behind the curtain
Waiting for his mark.

A skinny, nimbly body
And a head too big to fit.
Tongue rolling over giant teeth
Waiting for you to sit.

Once you’re then distracted
He jumps out without a sound.
Of course your hands move to hide yourself
Or pull your pants back up around.

But that’s just what he wanted.
He’s really rather smart.
He wants your hands occupied
For he only eats one part.

He’ll knock you to the ground
And keep your arms pinned to your side.
His giant mouth holds giant teeth
For scooping out your eyes.

There’s really nothing you can do
But lay there, squirm, and scream.
The worst part is when his sticks his tongue
In the hole to get it clean.

——-

There’s something in your mirror
And it likes to watch and stare.
But if you try to catch a glimpse
You’ll rarely see it there.

It hides just past the edges
It moves too quickly at a glance.
But if you’re very careful
You may just get a chance.

If you stare completely forwards
With the mirror to your side
The corner of your eye may catch it
Before it moves to hide.

I saw it once myself
Before I knew what it did.
I couldn’t tell its gender
Only that it was a kid.

Don’t try it though, I warn you
Unless you’re feeling brave.
The temptation’s there I realize
But it’s important you don’t cave.

If it sees you staring
You could always try to run.
I doubt you’ll get away
The kid is faster than a gun.

Straight out from your mirror
And up your body it will trek.
Its tiny hands are strangely strong
Made right to snap your neck.

——-

There’s the lady in your bedroom
Hiding underneath your bed
We all know she’s always there
But she doesn’t want you dead

She waits underneath you
Long fingers playing with her hair
Run to you bed once lights are out
She won’t get you there

But if you let a foot slip out
From underneath your sheet
She won’t hesitate to move
And reach out for both your feet.

Her claw like hands feel like ice
As she holds you in her grasp.
It feels like needles in your skin
You can only gulp and gasp.

She’ll rip your toenails from your toes
One by one by one.
She puts them gently in a stack
To use them when she’s done.

She’ll hold you there so you can’t move
Or scream or make a din.
Then she grabs the biggest nail
And scrapes off all your skin.

She wraps it in a bundle
And braids the toenails in her hair.
Then she runs off to sell your skin
For someone else to wear.

——-

There’s something out your window
Yes, each and every one
He’s waiting for you there
And won’t move til you see sun.

Behind every single curtain
Hidden by your blind
If you’d only take a look
He is what you’d find.

A grin large as a Cheshire
Eyes that are bigger still
Waiting for you to wander
Near the window sill.

Unlike the mirror child
He wants to be seen.
He dislikes being patient
And meals that are too lean.

Once you make eye contact
Well that’s the end of that.
You’ll feel like you’re falling
Into eyes just like a vat.

Slowly he’ll crawl in
With eyes that never shake.
Desperately you try to move
Just wishing you could quake.

While he does hate waiting
He will never ever rush.
He wants to enjoy his meal
So tender and so lush.

Finger by finger
Hand and then arm.
Moving so softly
As though not to harm.

The worst part of all
Is his eyes lock with yours.
Unable to glance away
‘Til you see death’s doors.

And once he’s inside
The game’s just begun
Your family’s vulnerable
And he wants his fun.

Dreamer

I am a dreamer, and it fills me with pain.
I see the world and all I could gain.
I see all that I could fulfill in my life
It all comes so clearly; no conflict, no strife.
I see the world and all the places I’ll go.
But reality is painful, and ever so slow.
I see the things that never shall live.
What chances the world never will give.

I am a dreamer, though it hurts to admit.
Lives flash by my eyes if for a moment I sit.
I see what could be if given a chance.
I see the things others don’t give a glance.
I see what choices we each failed to make.
The things I’ll never have only leave me to ache.
I imagine the touches, feelings that don’t exist.
It leaves the holes in my heart to gape and persist.

I am a dreamer, it kills me to say.
I see things I won’t have, day after day.
I see things I want but never can pass.
Whether of physics or timing, woe and alas!
Magic or money, a house and some fame.
I know in the end, you won’t know my name.
I see the greatness I’ll never achieve.
But in these silly dreams, I’ll stay and believe.

I am a dreamer, it will always be true.
For I see the world filled with me and with you.
And so if reality makes my heart sore,
It’s only a reason for me to dream more.
It’s not the real world I imagine and see.
A dreamer am I and forever will be.

Dance

I haven’t danced in so long. Like really, honestly, truly danced. Not the grinding and jumping at bars or clubs. Those can be fun, they really can be. Just give me a couple of Screwdrivers or a Vegas Bomb (and a cute guy) and I’ll be great for a while.

But what I really want… Well, it’s two things. I used to teach swing dancing and ballroom dance. I say it like that to sound impressive but honestly it was really just the basic steps. We did go a bit farther with the swing dancing but I got taught as much as I taught others. And honestly I’m not even confidant I was doing it right. But shh, that’s not the point. The point it I really miss just being in a group and just able to turn on jazz music and dance around, moving as I wanted, never feeling more comfortable with my body or my choices.

The other type of dance I love was big group choreographed numbers. I’ve always been good at copying things I see, and I can feel like I’m in a competition, always showing I can dance better than everyone else. And I like being shown exactly what to do and how to do it. No choices left up to me, it’s really easy. Not to mention I love big dance numbers when they’re done well. It looks really great.

I just wish I had somebody close to dance with. I’ve still never “danced” with a guy I liked yet. Tyler danced the same things I did and my biggest regret is still, after three years, that I didn’t get to dance with him. Even after all my visits with Cuban, I never got to dance with him. And he knew how much I wanted to. Looking back now it’s probably for the best… You know, since I kinda want to punch him still. At least this way I can still wait for an actual relationship to dance with a guy.

It feels kinda silly, but I totally hold cuddling and hand holding and especially dancing like that on a higher stand than sex. Actually, it might be sad I feel that way. It’s just… There are people I feel comfortable enough to sleep with, and I don’t believe in slut shaming ever. But it’s only people I’m actually interested that I’ll want to do more with. And dancing is at the top of the list.

I just want to find a guy and slip my hand in his, and lay my other on his shoulder while he wraps his free hand around my waist. Yes, yes I do want to be the follower. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a very good lead dancer. I understand how bodies move and I’ve had plenty of people tell me when I dance with them I’m amazing at getting them to feel how they should move with me. But when I find the right guy, I want to be able to let myself be loose and not worry and just follow for once.

I think I’d want to do a simple waltz, or rumba. …Yes, rumba would be best. One, I love it regardless. Two, it’s a Cuban dance and I’m half Cuban (and proud!). Three, I really do have amazing hips when I dance. Seriously. I’m quite proud of them, as silly as it is. Forth, I adore Latin music and dance as a whole.

So… yeah, that’s all I’m saying. I just want to find somebody to dance with again. I want to feel free again. Just stop thinking and be surrounded by music and motion.

Want

What I want is very simple if you look at it.

I want that touch of a fingernail running lightly down my neck, so light I can barely feel it except for the scrape from that skin on the corner of your finger. I want the chills down my spine that grows into a shudder throughout my body, even though they stop the moment you lay your whole hand on my neck.

The wrong guy touching me anywhere will make me want to punch him, and I will punch him. But I want to find you. You, wherever you are. You, who sees me in a light I didn’t know existed. You, who wants me just as badly. You, who touches me like that.

I want a kiss, but not a passionate, hungry one with too much tongue and biting and growling and desire. I want the slow one that barely moves my body, but makes my head swim. To borrow words, I want a kiss that’s as much breath as touch, as much no as yes. A kiss that envelopes me and fills me, contents me. Lip on lip like the waves on an ocean during the calmest day. Rocking back and forth ever so subtly on the surface, so much so that you couldn’t tell it was there on the surface. But underneath and inside, there are never ending currents and waves and a depth that goes farther than I could ever hope to explore.

Where have you gone? I thought I’d found you before but it was only somebody that looked like you. I got distracted by a glimpse and sidetracked again and again. It’s like you’re avoiding me. Always far to the side. I think I can see you in the corner of my eye, but when I turn there’s nothing there anymore.

I want to meet your eyes with mine and drown. Let me just look into them, and look back just the same. No words, no noise, no sound. Look in me and breathe. Hold my hand while I match my breath to yours. In and out and in again. Let me look into your eyes and see myself reflected, so deeply inside you that I shine right back out. Speak to me silently, and my eyes will answer yours. I’ll open myself and pour out everything into my gaze, so that only you can see me.

I want you to run your fingers through my hair. Grab and pull it, teasing me. Stroke it, or style it, or just lean in and smell it. I would let you. I just want to be wanted. I want to be desired. I want to be longed for and needed and missed.

Everything I feel for you, I want you to feel it for me.

I’m not patient though. I hope you feel it quickly, because I move quickly. I don’t do things half-heartedly. I rush and jump without looking. Every time I think I found you, I reach out for you. I’m so sorry. I hope you’ll forgive me. It’s just… I’m trying to find you and I don’t know what to do.

God, you don’t know how much I want you. To be able to grab your hand and pull you closer when I want. To feel your shoulder against my shoulder, you leg against my leg. Hand in mine, squeezing tightly, and never letting you go away again. Just keep me close and wrap my in your arms wherever we are. I want to feel like that again. Safe.

I want to feel safe in a big place with lots of people. I want to feel safe in the quiet when I don’t understand anything. I want to feel safe as we lay down in bed and the darkness surrounds us and the nightmares wake me up. I want to be able to reach over and grab you. Roll over and curl up in you, my face in your neck, never having to face the darkness alone. Never having to face the world alone.

I want you to grab me and keep me and kiss me and hold me and fuck me and save me. I want you here. I want you with me. I want your skin on mine in any way you want. I want your lips and eyes and breath and hands and face and body and warmth and voice and mind and heart and soul and world.

I want you.
Where are you?
Where are you?
Where are you?
Where are you where are you where are you?

Summer Storm

It’s raining outside and it’s beautiful.
A hot summer day turned into a warm summer night.
I see the storm roll in over the tree line,
I see the stars cover themselves in clouds to make way
For the beauty of the storm.
I take off my shoes and step outside.
The grass and mud slide between my toes.
I spread my arms and let the gusts whip me around.
And then I dance.
I jump and I spin, as if I know what I am doing.
I listen to the melody of the thunder,
And I see the picture that the lightning paints.
I slide and fall and get back up, rain dripping from my everything.
Clothes soaked, I continue to dance, consumed by the storm.

Nothing else exists for me.
This is the night I need.

My summer storm.

That is the same as what I think love should be.
A smile on my face, a laugh on my lips.
My body reeling and my head spinning.
My eyes unable to catch of glimpse of anything but you,
Everything else dimming with you around.
My arms spread and my body surrounded by you.
My skin covered by you sliding across my skin,
And my breath taken as I’m guided to and fro.
My legs shaking, my feet wandering as I try to get closer to you.
Countless kisses down my face.
Chills down my spine.
Your voice loud and quiet in my ear.
I stumble and fall and catch myself in your arms, giving you my everything.
Heart pounding, I continue this dance, consumed by the storm.

This is who are you to me.
This is the love I need.

My summer storm.

Late Night Limericks

Here’s the random crap I write for people when I can’t sleep. Enjoy!

There once was a boy who could write
Prose and poems, heavy or light.
When he couldn’t sleep
He’d act like a creep
And send poems to people at night.

There once was a girl on my roof,
Claiming to fly with no proof.
She leapt off the edge,
Got over my hedge,
And hit the ground with a “splat” and an “oof”.

There once was a pillow so lumpy,
It made my hair very frumpy.
I got up one morn,
And was greeted with scorn,
By my boyfriend who proceeded to dump me.

There once was a kid on his bed,
Wearing earphones on his head.
While watching some porn,
His brother opened the door,
“Plug those in, you moron!” he said.

There once was a girl watching TV,
Of a show with boys oh so pretty.
She declared aloud,
In a voice true and proud,
“I’ll find gay subtext if it kills me.”

There was once a woman feeding some ducks,
When her husband said “Just my luck!
I can see now because of the fog,
Their beak looks like the face of a dog.”
The woman squints a bit, sighs, and says “Fuck.”

There once was a drunk who was stumblin’.
He fell to the ground, yellin’ and mumblin’
About police boxes and cats,
Porn and food on place mats.
Obviously he had been Tumblin’.

Twice Upon a Moment [Revised]

Once upon a time, everything happened. All things that have ever happened have happened at least once and have happened upon some moment in time. Once upon a time, a man died. Once upon a time, a girl was born. Once upon time. But for a single event, a single action, to happen twice in the same place and at the same moment in time… This is where things begin.

Twice upon a moment, a single book was grabbed. It was lifted and pulled, but the book being only a book could not go in two directions at once. Two hands slipped, and one book fell. The book’s impact made a soft whud, its grey binding landing on a pile of books. It was perhaps only a dozen dozen pages, hardbound with soft corners. Eyes followed the book down, and lifted then to meet.

Each hand belonged to a separate arm, on separate bodies. Each body stiffened for an instant in surprise. Neither had known the other had been there, neither knew the other reaching for the book. The body with brown eyes and a body with blue eyes. Brown’s mouth open and shut, Blue’s mouth turned up a grin for half a second.

A full second passed. A second more. A single second longer before Brown’s mouth stumbled over words. Brown’s face went red and mouth went to close, but not before a “sorry” spat out.

“It’s all right,” murmured Blue Eyes. “Um…” Blue’s mind had no thought to fill it before blue eyes caught sight of the grey book once more. “Oh, right, you can take it.”

Brown eyes widened. “No! I mean, it’s not a problem. You can take it. I insist.” Brown’s hand picked the book back up and held it out at arm’s length. Blue saw long thin fingers, with nails bitten to the base. A hand with full nails reached out to take the book.

Blue Eyes’s hand stopped in front of the book. “Are you quite sure?”

“Yes. Erm, very yes,” Brown replied, though the book wasn’t offered any farther. Brown eyes met blue once more. Quietness erupted from the spot they stood for merely a moment. Brown’s voice was rough though softly spoken. “I saw another copy on the shelf.”

Blue Eyes grinned and blue eyes glinted. A more solid voice answered, “Is that a reason for me to have this one, or a reason for me to refuse?”

Brown stuttered and blushed and dropped the book again. “No no no. This one. You can have this one, I mean.”

“I don’t think you’re sure at all.”

“I don’t think it’s your place to decide.”

“I don’t think you want the other copy.”

“I don’t think you want this one.”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Blue Eyes grinned again.

“You only want to read it. I want it to be mine.” Brown eyes looked away.

Blue Eyes looked in brown eyes and picked up the book. “Then take it. If you want something, you only need to ask for it.”

Brown Eyes accepted the book and held it lightly. “Just ask then?”

“Truly.”

The two voices smiled and asked as one, “What’s your name?”

And so as blue eyes met brown, Brown Eyes met Blue.

Random Poetry (Inspired at work)

My heart is raging,
Beating faster.
Can this be love,
Or just disaster?

My heart won’t stop
Its pitter-patter.
In the end,
It doesn’t matter.

I’ll still my fears
And make the change.
Nothing ventured,
Nothing gained.

Twice Upon a Moment

Twice upon a moment, a single book was grabbed by two hands. The book was small, perhaps a dozen dozen pages. It had a hard binding, a pale grey colour, with the title all but faded on its spine.

The hands belonged not to one person but two. The book, being a book, was not capable of being pulled in two directions, and the arms connecting the hands fumbled as they both contracted against each other without knowing the other was there.

The book was dropped as four eyes met. Blue eyes met brown. A “whud” could be heard if any attention were paid to it, but there was none left. A second passed. A second longer. A single second longer before brown’s mouth stumbled over words. Brown’s face went red and mouth went to close, but not before a “sorry” spat out.

“It’s all right,” murmured Blue Eyes. “Um…” Blue’s mind had no thought to fill it before blue eyes caught sight of the grey book once more. “Oh, right, you can take it.”

Brown eyes widened. “No! I mean, it’s not a problem. You can take it. I insist.” Brown’s hand picked the book back up and held it out. The arm connected to the hand stretched out this time. Blue saw long thin fingers, with nails bitten to the base. A hand with full nails reached out to take the book.

“Thank you. Are you sure?” Blue eyes met brown once more.

“Oh yes. I saw another copy on the shelf over there.” Brown eyes and a nail bitten finger pointed.

A mouth opened once more to express gratitude but stopped. Blue eyes shifted to the grey book.

“Then why did you want this copy?”

“Oh. Um, well, it’s hard cover. But that’s alright. You can have it.”

Blue eyes smiled as a full nailed hand pressed the book into a half waiting arm.

“Thank you,” said Blue. “But I only wanted to read it. I think you want to have it. I’ll go get the copy you mentioned.”

Brown’s face went red once more. “That’s quick of you, to see what you wanted and what I wanted were different things.”

“But not too different. There’s no reason to have a book if you won’t read it, and little reason not to have a book after you’ve read it.”

“I wouldn’t mind having you. I- I mean reading you. Wait! I mean… I meant to say…”

The two voices asked as one, “What’s your name?”

And so as blue eyes met brown, Brown Eyes met Blue.

——-

This is actually a work in progress. There are lots of awkward parts that affect the flow and I need to rewrite pieces. But I hope you enjoy the original draft.