Ruined Worlds

Running away into ruined worlds
Where things can always be fixed
And fears can fly faster than father or brother
And daydreams and dangers are mixed.

A mask of the making of under worth the taking
Can hide away a ravenous soul
But there always are waking demons of the quaking
And demons, they never are full.

Falling down into rabbit holes
Where events don’t have to be fixed
And the failures that follow and the sadness that swallows
Can from life’s booklet be nixed.

It’s a mask of the making of truth that we’re faking
To take on a different role
But we never are slaking thirsts of demons we’re making
To be the villains that make our play whole.

Worthless

Call me beautiful,
Call me lovely;
I call myself worthless
But you won’t trust me.

You call me wonderful,
You call me wise;
Oh, what you must have seen
To have thus plucked out your eyes!

I’ll say I’m nothing;
I’ll not hear your redress.
The deaf and the blind:
Oh, what a mess.

Imposter

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You ask me why I shy away,
Why I’m running in surprise:
I ask you why can’t you see
The devil in my eyes?

You want to know why I refuse
To stay here by your side?
The truth is, I’m pretty sure
When you asked my name, I lied.

You say that I deserve this,
This thing that you call happiness.
What would you say if I told you
I don’t even know what that is?

Because you don’t really know me;
You don’t know just what I am.
I’m a demon and a devil,
And you are just a man…

The Exiles

Snow drifts past the entrance
Of our makeshift camp:
A cave without friendship,
Fire or lamp.

Once, we would never
Have come here alone;
Now a man you once trusted
Sits on your throne.

You pace and you mutter,
At war with yourself.
I know I can’t ease you;
I keep to myself.

I let my thoughts drift,
As the snow drifts outside.
What plots, what schemes
Run through your mind?

Are they thoughts of revenge
Against the one who betrayed you?
Who murdered your mistress,
All just to frame you?

Oh, my love:
You’ll never know,
But I’m the traitor who lost us
To the ice and the snow.

Back to the Middle

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Take me back, back,
Back to the middle;
Back to the days
When I was yours.
Back when you played me
Like I was your fiddle,
And it was a song
That I adored.

I don’t wanna relive
Those awkward beginnings
Where I didn’t feel
What I do now.
Oh the things you did
Back then, to win me:
They aren’t things
I’d disavow.

So take me back,
Back to the middle;
Back to us, to what
We were before.
When you made me feel other
Than frightened and little;
Back when you were my friend
And ever much more.

Please take me back,
Back from this ending:
This is a book
That deserves a sequel.
I’ll do anything;
I’ll quit the pretending.
Just please, don’t make me
Into a prequel.

221B

Cobblestone and carriages;
Streetlamps and sleuths.
Masterminds, and myriads
Of problems and proofs.

Fog in the freeze,
And dogs on the chase.
Same villains, same routine;
Was it all a waste?

Sidekicks and soliloquies:
By the fireplace now.
Ah! But the doorbell bears a question
And I’ll bet it starts with “how.”

Selfish

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I never really loved you
When love was all you had.
But still I stole what you gave freely,
And drove you slowly mad.

We spent over a year like that,
Where you loved me more than you could say;
But with your love you looked at me
While I could only look away.

You saw the writing on the wall
When I at last saw what we had;
Now it’s my turn to be saddened,
And your turn to be iron-clad.

For another year like that
I’d give more than I can say.
But the day that I love anything,
Is the day you walk away.