Those Lullabies

Those Lullabies

it was hard to remember
that i’d nearly forgotten her.
all those sing-song blues,
and instrumental reds.
ebbs and tides of her tears
flowing between her every mood.
anger and hopelessness her rocks
in that very sea of obsidian disdain.

well in youth she cascaded down
every fall of fortune
that her tentative existence could muster.
how the clouds, ominous,
shadowed a world of noise.
reverberating within her jaded alto
was a hole that never quite was filled.

monsters only breed monsters.

the way the breeze wrapped
around her melodic disposition,
only a shred of doubt evolving within.
but days so thickly laden with contrast
make our darkest hours seem ghastly,
make our doubt become our addiction.

and now her tunes are carried
by an arrow of spite,
with
feedback too impossible to handle,
too difficult to transform that sapphire
into shades of aquamarine.
oh and i missed her lullabies,
whereupon dark she kissed her worries a viridian goodnight.

now only monsters can breed monsters.

just a note of resentment flavors her face,
faded until eyes of green became eyes of gray.
when little girls are angels incarnate,
only devils can make them monsters.
you are the one who forged you,
and for this i pity her and her crimson tenor tones
that only let her glow at all
because she was alone and milking
her perpetually bleeding wounds.

it was hard to remember.
but blues and reds echo in another dream,
where her only foreground is violet,
a new pedestal for emotions sought long before her time,
it was hard to remember
every note of her old song.
but only a monster could take that away,
and i fear you’ve molded me well…