I feel guilty for not posting anything.

Here are a few oldish poems.
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The Worst Kind of Death

She wanted to die a tragic death
To be crushed in a freak landslide
Wanted rescuers to see a single, bloody hand emerging from the ruins of the mountain

She wanted to die a beautiful death
To fall from the top of a skyscraper
A dire raindrop in a dress of ivory Victorian lace, watched by desperate faces turned upwards

She wanted to die a harrowing death
To be found in the basement of a serial killer
Raped, gutted like a fish, throat cut, bound, gagged, lying pale in a pool of her own blood

She wanted to die an memorable death
To be found hanging in a park bathroom
By a group of unsuspecting teenagers who would be haunted by the sight for the rest of their lives

She wanted to die an unforgettable death
To be shot in a hostage situation on TV
Forced to her knees and shot in the back of the head, an example to law enforcement

She would have settled for a quiet death
Found in a bathtub with wrists slit
A fresh razorblade glinting on the floor, rusted with her drying blood

Or even an uneventful death
Found next to an empty bottle of pills
Sprawled on the floor like a broken, discarded, abused, forgotten toy

But instead, she died the worst kind of death
She died inside
Married an accountant, had two children, bought a golden retriever, a minivan, and attended bake sales

Lost and Found

1. I lost my heart to a girl in a club

where the neon lights

danced across her face

momentarily illuminating her weakness

7. I found a movie projector

buried in my boxes of things

and stayed up all night

watching us smile on the gritty wall

2. I lost my eyes

to the sheer beauty of autumn

when the vibrancy of the leaves

paled only in comparison to her smile

6. I found a snake

buried in my memories

who's quiet, gentle hissing

served to remind me it was all my fault

3. I lost my mind

and found myself locked

within the white walls of her sanatorium

screaming for attention

5. I found a new bar

very close to my new apartment

a new, exciting place

for my old stale addiction

4. I lost the keys to your apartment

I swear I left them

in the ripped pocket of her shirt

above the bruises

This one was in some issue of the Maverick. Based on Salvador Dali

La Persistencia de la Memoria

It's three in the morning

and time seems to slow

to an imperceptible rate

till the minute hands are barely moving

and I feel as if I am swimming

through the shadows of you

that creep up the walls

of my mind

silently haunting me

with the taste of your breath

the feel of your smile

The way your eyelashes rested against your cheek

when you slept beside me

casting minute shadows

across the hills and valleys of your face

Annnd a very short story.

100 Word Story (Inspired by 'Pet' by A Perfect Circle)

"Don't fret precious I'm here." Long fingers tangled in blond hair, moonlight shining through cold glass to illuminate the scene. "Step away from the window." The voice of seduction and pain reverberated around the dark room, powerful even when quiet. A threat lurked in it's dulcet tones, softened by a twisted form of love. The city stretched out below, human ants scurrying about on the sidewalk, unaware of the exquisite agony of their watcher. "Go back to sleep..." The blond turned from the freedom of night, obeying the voice by habit alone. There was no escape from this quiet asphyxiation.