DarkRiderDLMC

Far off in Ceylon grows a plant known as 'tea.' For reasons of harvest, a bush, not a tree. The plants grow and flourish, the planter receives His due playing Autumn (he takes off the leaves). The latter are processed (sun-shriveled, I mean) And if hardly dried out, the tea will be green. If they’re very dry, and their little sides crack They'll be called orange pekoe, but really look black. If they should be neither, why that's nothing wrong-- Tea leaves greenish-blackish are labeled 'oolong.' Small leaves from high mountains are christened, revealing Their great, lofty lineage:  They call them 'Darjeeling.' They sort them, and chop

Dispersed clouds pass running through the Wind's fingers pale and irretrievable                as the face of my love sunken in their alabaster shrouds tearless wrecks etched in an upside down sea that never leaves me floating across the torment(ed) sky                     that I call memory... *K MARCH *Y © copyright of KAY MARCH - All Rights Reserved.

I lay awake, Lying next to you, waiting until your breaths become shallow, until your breaths become weakened by sleep, Waiting until you get lost in slumber. Then I cry, pour my heart out onto my pillow case, unleash the torrent of tears, my emotional pains. I cry until my body aches with sorrow, my eyes burn and my cheeks tingle, my heart throbs. I'm lost in silent sobs, near motionless but far from emotionless. Steady, unwavering, flawless; Each sob matching your quiet breaths. I cry. Not because you slumber while I lay restlessly awake. I cry. Not because I hurt so much  but you are none the wiser.

Fingertips inside the folds Like a flower, burst of color. Pink flesh bleeding Mind racing Body pacing Yet still as can be. Lost inside the sheets Musty with man Sweetness of bitch Scent. Sweat rolls down back Leaving innards in tact Attacking the heart Lost in tug of war Body craving touches While mind screaming. Constant turning Stomach churning I cannot let go Be free. Heaving of breast Is this a test? Smile within a smile Fold within a fold Rain droplets forming Across smooth surface. Eyes shut tight Vision of lights You are but a blur That I crave more to feel.

  The land in me            is like the sea...        Oscillates,  without seasons   with a scent of orchard leaves   in the folds of my sleeves.        Vacillates,  without reasons   with the salty breeze that waits   for the full moon sails.   *K   MARCH   *Y   © copyright of KAY MARCH - All Rights Reserved.

  Dreams late at night keep my mind racing, running wild and trapped. When I sleep I feel brittle bones snapping As my mind races into pitch black oblivion. No light at the end of the tunnel, Just dreams crashing and burning like ocean waves against rocky hillsides. Loosing myself I lose you in the process As I break silently in the wind Of forgotten memories that come to me in sleep. I was never a Cinderella But I hoped for fairytales that ended in blood-bath instead. I hear my breathing shallow and deep My eyes twitch, moans escape brittle cracked lips As silent screams form in my throat from tortured souls that live deep within