The Poisoner

I am the poisoner,
I breathe the pestilential fog
Which fills my lungs
And clothes your pores with hate.

I am the darkness,
The heaviness that rests
On sultry nights
And steals your borrowed sighs.

I am the vision of despair
Which sets your sleeping lids
Fluttering.
The queasiness you felt when passing that word by.

I am the lock on your Pandora’s box,
Rusty keeper of your secrets,
I know your secret hope
When a noise breaks through the night.

Yet still you call my name,
You search for me by daylight,
And tread my shadows by the moon
And no forgotten lover will ever doubt your quest.

Out of Frame

Time is passing in your photo album,
Flash by flash,
Another's smiles alongside yours,
Page by page,
I turn with fear and loathing.

Over and onward,
Frozen seconds burn my fingertips,
I picture a thousand more intimate,
Which the camera did not see.
Looking for faces which might have been me.

I am breaking down,
My edges are torn,
My memories are peeling away,
Victim of a life of turning,
Because the first page was too good to be true.