Sin

I may’ve got you under my skin

but I will scratch until I bleed

to get you out.  You are nothing

but a sin now.  No more will I spend

time wondering what I did wrong

because I was perfect.  I could not

have been better.  Oh, no –

you, dear, are the eighth sin.

Favorites

You are my favorite color.

I can’t explain it. It a sort

of teal and black with swirling

lines of white, infused

with a light that isn’t really

a color but might as well be.

My favorite food is you:

a sweet combination of smooth

strawberries and warm biscuits,

delicately pillowed inside.

Furthermore, you are my favorite

movie.  You are the perfect

mix of romance and adventure,

of comedy and drama.  You do not,

however, run at a set time.

You are not over in one hour,

forty-six minutes.

Most importantly, you are my favorite person.

Star Pirates

For three days we sailed

in the stars and what I loved

best was that I knew

when it was all over

I would be okay.

I Was Never Good With Foreign Lands

For now, let me play with your hands

while I wait for inspiration to strike.

I was never good with foreign lands.

Maybe I’ve made a thousand plans,

(one day I’ll cross America on my bike).

For now, let me play with your hands.

I’ve got ambition great as any man’s,

hell, as strong as the Third Reich—

I was never good with foreign lands.

You know, I grew up in minivans,

just as you, none two were ever alike.

For now, let me play with your hands.

I shed time like I do hair strands,

it was only two years ago I studied Psych.

I was never good with foreign lands.

I think maybe we should just travel, follow bands.

We’ll find one or two we really like.

For now, let me play with your hands,

I was never good with foreign lands.

The Possessed's Lament: A Villanelle

I don’t want to be the villain anymore.

I’ve found the devil in my head

and now my whole body is sore.

Being evil has become such a bore.

I cannot tell you how many innocents I have bled;

I don’t want to be the villain anymore.

It seems Hell hasn’t a single door.

For days I have seen nothing but hues of red,

and now my whole body’s sore.

Can’t you hear the relentless roar?

The demons in my eyes have been fed.

I don’t want to be the villain anymore.

I know I’ve hurt you plus a score—

I’ve cut every last remaining thread

and now my whole body is sore.

Do not tell me this is all just child’s lore,

I swear I have become the walking dead.

I don’t want to be the villain anymore

and now my whole body is sore.

Comfort: A Rondeau

You’ll have to talk me down tonight,

I can take any more of this right

now, and it’s time, I swear it’s time.

I need you to help me climb

this mountain, and I was never good with height.

God, I hope it’s worth the site,

and, baby, you’ve got the might

to get to the top wouldn’t it be a crime

if I didn’t come with you?

Most likely it will be a tight

squeeze when we reach the cliff, so we’ll be quite

close, and I know I’m not at my prime

but you’ve got to hold me because I’m

seeing from here the clouds are so white

and I don’t know what to do.