i am lost,
in the most dense of forests,
deepest of oceans,
and the most opaque of fogs.
search for me,
and you will become lost yourself.
disappearing through leaves,
drowning beneath the current,
evaporating into the air.
yet,
it will be as if i never went,
i was never found.

The snowflakes have fallen on my cheek,
The time of year when the sun goes to sleep,
All is joyful,
All is white,
Except for the one who is alone,
Beneath the Christmas light.

Humming soft carols under the desolate tree,
Drinking cocoa by myself,
Walks through the town,
With no one else.

Winter has come,
And taken away,
All of the bliss in my days.

I see people hand in hand,
Mittens and jackets through the snowy wonderland,
It makes me see how solitary
I really am,
It makes me wonder,
What was God’s plan?

I live in a place where the sky never gets very dark at night.
The city lights illuminate,
And they contrast with the deep black,
Creating the faint purple hue I always see before I sleep.
And I think to myself,
You and me, we made the color purple.
I, the mysterious, but misunderstood night.
And you, lighting me up with your joy, passion, and wit.
A bulb so full it could protect the dark from itself for eternity.
You embraced the dark,
And turned it into something far more than the shades of charcoal, ash, and ink.
But now the city light is gone,
And the sky is dim enough to see the stars that are my memories of you.
Constellations bursting from the frame of night,
Aligning to form the *** we made our favorite mac n cheese in,
And the obnoxious belt you bought me for my birthday that I still wear.
They stretch across the canvas of sheet-black,
And I think to myself,
Can the others see them too?
The stars for what they really are?
Because when the sky becomes black again,
All the stars are visible,
And I recall why I first cherished them.

If you could see me now,
guarded in conviction
and hidden along my own invisible trail
you would know all the immeasurable times your name rings like a melody through my mind
and your smile splattered on canvas in my thoughts

the cold days I burrow myself in bed and stare at the ceiling…
there is no nothingness more horrible than space without you
and no nothingness more pleasant than the comfortable silence as I’m along your side

If you could see me now,
I would be weeping at an unmarked tombstone
recalling fateful memories that never occurred
and with you, making the ones that were yet to happen

If you could see me now,
I’d hold you tight, fragile glass against my chest
and your soothing warmth would never escape my grasp again

If you could see me now,**
my eyes would be matched with that of yours
and I’d never look elsewhere again