Selections: Illumination Without Light - Christopher Aaron

- Red Rose -

Red rose, upon the ground.
Laying lonely, yet so lovely.
Its fragrant perfume floats so gently upon the air.
Its silken folds resting so very softly there.
Red rose, upon the ground.
Laying lonely, yet so lovely,
in a pool of tears.
Shimmering ever so faintly,
from the blood upon its crimson bloom.

- Shards, Suspended -

"Every gentle snowflake was once a cold, frozen tear in the clouds."

White on white,
she wears a thick white coat
against the pristine coat of snow.
Black on black,
her raven eyes wander over
the silhouettes of the trees.
Crimson,
nothing in the winter scene
matches the blood that beats erratically
through her sore tested veins.
Fragmented icicles
hang delicately from their perches
their shards, suspended,
much like her tears that cling to her eyes,
afraid that they'll be seen should they fall.
But silence on silence,
perhaps, if she strays forever
in the pristine and crystallized beauty
of the winter day,
she, too, will melt away.

- Sunlight Façade -

Close your eyes,
I’ll be here in the morning, like always,
and you’ll wake up refreshed,
ready to live again.
Go to bed, pull the blankets up around you.
I’ll keep the night light on
while I sit up, awake.
You’ve never seen the nighttime,
you’re always such a sound sleeper.
There are stories written on the windows,
penned with my finger upon the condensation page.
The words vanish in the sunlight.
You’ve never read my tales.
It doesn’t matter, it never really has.
I’ve never expected you to wake until the morning light.
I can utter all the curses I wish.
You’d never hear me.
I could cry all I want.
And you’d never see my tears.
But I don’t.
I just watch over you as you sleep,
oblivious to this dark world of mine.
I won’t be here in the morning,
I’ve never been there.
A lie has always taken my place each morn,
but it doesn’t matter,
since he’s the one you’ve always known.
And I, not being truly alive in light,
will vanish like the misty words on windows.
I’ll be here at midnight, like always,
should you, perchance, awake.

-Empathy-

Catch my breath
Catch my heartbeat
Catch the vaguest whispers from my lips
Catch my pain and suffering
But most of all
in a single glance
pierce all my lies
and catch me before I fall

-A Requiem Forever More-

Forever more, I go
Ever onward, ever along
Across the field of ice and snow
Past the gleaming oceans, azure
Down the deepest, most desolate of caverns
And soaring into the evening sky
Forever more, I go
And though my stone lies beneath the winter snow
My spirit goes wherever the chill winds may blow
Forever more
Forever more
I go

-Night Whispers-

Curtains rustle quietly
with each soft night breath
and silver starlight slips in
alongside the silken shadows,
to where you lay down to rest.
Close your eyes, dear one,
and listen to my song.
The harsh sunlight has long since faded
beneath the horizon line,
surrendering to the gentle hues of shadow
and diamonds scattered across the velvet sky.
Close your eyes, my friend,
blanketed by shadows,
cradled tenderly in the night.
Dwell not on the pain of day
for tonight has respite enough.
I claim no Oracular vision
of what tomorrow with it brings
but I promise that after every day
night will always come.
Close your eyes
and listen to my song.
Drift off to peaceful sleep
for this lullaby is for you
and with each quiet curtain rustling,
in every dark caress,
within the starlight and the shade,
I whisper it unto you.

-Fully Invasive-

This is not a poem.
This is me with eyes glaring
lips curled in a disgusted frown
as I etch yet another line into the paper.
This is me operating on myself
a rather delicate procedure involving
a pen, some paper, and far too many sleepless nights.
This is me trying to carve out those memories
and these thoughts of you
slicing apart every inch of my mind
hoping to gouge out wherever you are hiding.
Depart, with each and every pen stroke
as if the pen were a scalpel and the ink were my blood.
This is me screaming in pain
because the anesthesia flow was cut off from my brain
and the wounds wreak havoc upon my psyche.
This is not a poem.
No, this is my bloody operation-
to save myself and remove the tumor that is you...