4 a.m. blues

lightning bolt eyes
star kissed smile
i haven’t been fooled
by that face in awhile

words dipped sweet
kissed sugar lips
I drown in a rush
of slippery slips

you comfort me
with a whisper of sweet nothings
you relax me to sleep before the kill
and make me feel it’s such a thrill
your touch
is the clutch
that tangles me
and strangles me
softly
hard
and hardly soft
I open my eyes
to realize
a moment
too late
then forever gone
and so am I.

murdered by love
or assisted suicide
either way
a perfect way to die.




The Sacred Nine

One- on- one mixed-media art lessons in Los Angeles

Voice over Work

‘Cause talking is better than working

From My Reading

I spend a lot of time pondering what it all means.

Michael Lachman Writes

A Writer's Musings (And Likely Some Shameless Self-Promotion As Well)

Eclectic Theist

An outlet for my random thoughts and interests

I wonder, if I draw a line...

where would it flow...

Poetry Breakfast

Serving a little poetic nourishment Monday thru Friday and featuring a Short Play Saturday Matinee to read.

Life in Poetry, Prose and Pictures

Tales From The Life Of A Soul