Prose of a Con

Poetry and Prose by Russell Wardlow

Trauma

Bed of lies

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Red, rose petals on the bed of defeat

My tongue intertwined between the legs of deceit

Penetrate my delusions on the lies of these sheets

She starts to scream out the side that she hides as she rises to her peak

But before she misspeaks…she peeks

She quiets, tenses & we lock eyes

She comes…

Forward with truth so strong she unlocks mine

Heaves in her chest, flush in her flesh was showing

nothing said, just tides of a melancholy knowing –

Dead, rose petals on the bed of deceit

I morbidly leave, from between, the legs of defeat…

Minutes Uncertain

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1 minute we fight, 1 minute we love

1 minute we hug, 1 minute we shove

1 minute we talk, next minute a fit

A whole minute we kiss

Next minute full of some venom we spit

It’s back and forth, but I put you first

Yet you wear your heart on your sleeveless shirt

So I’ll leave you first, instead of leavin’ hurt.

Suddenly Awake

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This thing, this theme of dreams

These dreams aren’t what they seem,

The seam that I cut- it brings forth demons- they intervene

And form nightmares, I’m stuck in between.

Temporary Relief

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I crave the pain in watching you,

walk away-

You’re timeless in your value,

I’ve easily forgotten the day-

Once your silhouette dissipates,

I’m back to reality-

Deprived the cure of this cancerous place,

Walking back into a world of maladies-

Friend, family or women,

But those hours in your company, you become everything in that visit-

Stay for a while

The leave for the time being-

So my memory can paint in your smile,

While you see the pain in my eyes leaving.

 

Thoughts Drift

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My eyes teeter open – I’ve lost focus, yet remain hopeful

My conscious quakes, eyelids cascade, my thoughts seem vocal

I yearn to be seen as I see in my dreams, but that’s the illusion

An unwelcomed confusion – when these blissful imageries turn into morbid intrusions.