Like Cattle

The laughter is slaughter.

I can only resist with half a heart
when the glow calls my name
from a salty distance.

I have so much to build
and take apart,
as all of this sorrow
has brought with it
a priveleged look into my self
and into the self made possible
by devotion and sacrifice.

Here, in love, and scorned;
I am a rose blossom explosion of a man.

Peace and goodwill, traveler,
though I cannot propose such a thing
without laughing a bit,
for the slaughter was silent.

Ice in the Winter ("menteur")

Cold calculations 
apparent on face,
you spoke like its over, 
I'm quickly replaced.

It's all been a ruse,
an illusion, a game.
Your words are like water,
your eyes are the same.