Distraught the vicar wore a frown-
The churchyard wall had fallen down

Well he could devoutly pray
But not a single brick could lay

Fred said don't you worry, not at all-
We don't need a churchyard wall

Think about it now, he grinned
Those within can't get out,
And those without don't want in

hands fly everywhere
loud rock music blasting through the speakers
clothes messy and tousled all around
some guy's lips on mine
bodies entangled on the couch

i hope that it's my prince chariming
the one i'm dreaming of
at seven years old

attending concerts wearing an extra ear piercing
few chain bracelets on my bony wrists
screaming in a mosh pit
with a guy who swore he'd stay by me forever
singing at the top of our lungs
in a moment i wish would last forever

silently, i wish the concerts we'd attend
are the concerts i wanted to see
when i was fourteen

tumbling in heels i wish i'd wear
when i finally get into that dress
that dress, pristine white
flowing and trailing behind me
with a silver ring on my ring finger
given by you
and walking to the altar
to have you slip another ring onto me
this time
a golden one
to symbolize our eternity

i wish it'd be the same kind
of wedding that
i wished for
when i were twelve

helping carry huge loads of water on my shoulders
forcing my dad to "sit the hell down and take a rest"
and doing his work for him
while my mom catches up with him on the years they've lost
as they both enjoy their retirement years
and maybe or not thinking of getting a new job
to still keep this family standing

i hope that my family would never
break again
like what happened when i was eleven

alumni homecomings
my friends and i would go back to our second home
the home that kept us awake at night
with endless cramming
and strong lectures
we'd stroll along the hallways
hug old teachers
throw chairs and peel off their dull colors
and write under blackboards
like we're students again

but for me, i'd interact with the students
checking the covered courts and the field's grandstand
seeing people with their eyes closed
hands outstretched forward
sweat rolling down their faces
as their seniors shout at them
i would smile to myself then
when the closed eyelids flutter open and the arms set down
and the students are instructed to stand up

the seniors of that time give out a command
and they, along with the others who were sweating profusely
would face me,
the one leaning over the metal bars
smiling and waving with nostalgia

a sign
that i have accomplished my dream
at sixteen

i'd go back
and find you as well
in the same building
interacting with your old crush
who grew prettier with time
she'd wave at me
you would too
i'd feel my ribs squeeze against my heart
and i'd wave back

again, that jealousy comes back
that same jealousy i felt when you
asked me to prom
at fifteen

but i trust you
and you trust me too
so i carried on
because i knew that later
you'd come back to my house
and we'd have a movie marathon
or we'd play call of duty again
then we'd cuddle and sleep together
and fall out of the couch the next morning

i believe, i believe
i do, i really do

but i knew it was hard
with all the scars i have to prove it
i knew it was hard to stay positive
when i knew disaster was just there
with us
with me

at last, i'd experience the harsh reality again
the moment i fall out of those equally pristine white heels
when i realize that i'd never wear those shoes or that gown
because by then, you'd be gone
you'd come to realize how much of a failure i am
and how worthless i really am
how much prettier she was than me
how she's much more worth it than me
and how she could make you happier
than i can

all my fears at fourteen
came true at nineteen

but then i'd wake up and i'd realize
i'm still fourteen
it was all a dream
which i don't have the heart to call a nightmare
and instead
i'd call it a premonition
of the years to come
just like the scars i never thought i'd have
when i were four
or when i were ten

the scars
they tell me how much i've failed
and will fail

so i think back on my dream
and smile a little at the ending
of nineteen me
living the last of my teenage years

for your own good,
it was probably better you left too

cause y'know
i'd leave me too
at fourteen

Jacques and Emile's veins
pounded in their skulls
as they scrambled down the ladder
and through the labyrinth of sewers
to rejoin their fellow assassins
beneath the Parisian thoroughfares.

They'd tracked the **** Captain's moves
for past a week and knew precisely
what he drank and where he ******.
They were ready when he
Stumbled down the brothel stairs.

When Jacques stepped left for a clearer shot
he found a bucket with his foot.

The German wheeled and spotted them -
raising his whistle to his mouth,
but before he had a chance to blow,
A silent report from Emile's rifle
crashed into his trachea
And he crumpled like a rag.

Back in the tunnels
Jacques bragged like a circus barker,
"You should have seen the look on
Gerry's face before we brought him down."

Emile had seen his face alright,
but thought only of the whistle
that would have doomed them all.

What do you when the world goes mad
and **** tanks roll into the Champs Élysées?
Who do you **** and why and how?

Jacques was sound asleep
and deaf to his comrades' whispers -
pondering what to do and when.

The decision came quickly and a
different sort of mission was planned
and Emile selected to execute it.

What do you do when the world goes mad?

*August, 2013

Planet silhouetting atlases
of worlds we'll never know.
Their histories repeat,
through mushroom clouds
of soft pink explosions,
crying their fears for us to feel.
We watch them live and die,
admiring the beauty of life and death;
only I weep when light eminates through their wars.

Praise ye the Lord. Sing unto the
Lord a new song, and his praise
in the congregation of saints.
2 Let Israel rejoice in him that
made him: let the children of Zion be
joyful in their King.
3 Let them praise his name in the
dance: let them sing praises unto him
with the timbrel and harp.
4 For the Lord taketh pleasure
in his people: he will beautify the
meek with salvation.
5 Let the saints be joyful in glory:
let them sing aloud upon their beds.
6 Let the high praises of God be
in their mouth, and a twoedged sword
in their hand:
7 To execute vengeance upon the
heathen, and punishments upon the
people:
8 To bind their kings with chains,
and their nobles with fetters of iron;
9 To execute upon them the
judgment written: this honour have all his
saints. Praise ye the Lord.

You are a dream
I could have for a thousand sleeps,
A wonderful dream
in a moonlit night of loneliness,
Of winding roads
where our hearts may never be lost,
Of silhoutted horizon
where our love is unnoticed by most,
Of soaring mountains
where there are no impediments,
Of azure skies
where broken vows are ours to mend,
Of shallow rivers
where our memories may never sink,
Of hourless forest
where a never ending story do exist;
Yet you are only a dream
I could have for a thousand sleeps
A wonderful dream
in a moonlit night of loneliness.