Dakota Ellerton Poems

If I could sit and write from wake to sleep, by the open window with my marijuana ash tray, and endless supply of cigarettes and coffee, feeding only on the chaos and drama that has seeded and grown along side me in this house, on this street, in this town, I’d do well.
...

I can hear the faint whispers over my shoulder,
the light touch on my neck,
sends trembles through my body.
I'm left speechless.
...

I pardon to wake, as the room black as night surrenders my dreams.
I’m always as blind as when I look around in this moment, the obvious is hidden, and I trip over what I know is there.
I fail to comprehend anything but honesty from him.
I lay and see images dancing on my walls, black figures of grace and truth, Words spiraling around these naked lies.
...

If you were any less lonely,
we'd not hardly see the light in darkness.
The twisted senses of what was - have twined between my ever gasping breaths.
You are conceieved of a sin,
...

I leaned on the window paine, lighting my cigarette with my foot dangling 20 stories high, above the addicts and alcholics and prostitues, the people walking below buying drugs from other tenants, I see them standing in the alley way, when the buyers are short and the tab is too high, I always see men lose their pride.
...

In desperation I began to ponder in the absolutle lonliness of each persona's mind and heart, as the thoughts ran deeper then any scar had bled through out beautys perfection. My lungs drowned in addiction as I lit up my tenth cigarette of the night.

I'd fled so many lives and yet I'd become lost in something so familiar and broken as the shards like rubble lay still beneath my soles that had tread from here, to there, through this life and any other, to be torn and bloody as I turn from this love and all remaining - leaving nothing but ash and hate from she who I hold closest.
...

Lost in a dreading dream of nightmare wings and dark smoke weeping through my lungs as I pull in any type of security to wrap around my chilling flesh when her arms could not be found.

I cling to what I'd love to learn most as the memories I hold slip away like my last breath in the dead of night, so silent are my thoughts that I've thought of thinking many times before, as the last door closes and the windows are nailed shut, each possibility has collided and collapsed before my eyes as if this were the word of God - it may have been best if he'd not said anything at all.
...

For you and I,
see eye to eye,
as if nothing else would change.
But to a face,
...

If I were anymore of a distraction,
I'd almost feel my body shimmer in the middle of the mist.
As I catch the eye of passer-bys,
I do not bother trying to stare.
...

My mother always told me,
my blood was as poison.
Tainted, impure,
as thick and black as hatred.
...