Blurry in the mirror,
I reflect,
Poorly.
Swollen under-eyes,
Reddened skin,
A damp depression hanging about my hair.

Frozen face with eyes like running faucets-
I'm the living dead,
I'm stuck in one function.
With shaky legs,
Barely peering through eyes,
Crawling through the entrance to my room.

The floor accepts these desperate bows,
But nothing accepts my prayers-
Wishing for what exactly?
For us both to be happy,
When he is,
So should I be,
But in this manner,
I feel I've chased him away.

Sorry,
Have I ruined your last year?
Was it flooded with gloom instead of cheer?
Almost everything I love,
It gets destroyed like so-
I think, maybe I'm destined to be alone.

Ah, my knuckles are ******-
The rain sweeps by,
Chilling but it warms the air,
Washing away these light marks.
There's an imprint of something delightful,
Burning a path from my forehead to my lips.
Reality focuses in the alley lights,
Fading if I only keep my eyes on the pavement.

Right in the thick of it-
I relish in space, peace.
One of a kind,
It tastes, smells, feels grand.
Yet I can't ever see it.
In the wind,
It numbs me,
Nimbly dancing over my nose,
I shiver and lick the drip that falls to my tongue.

Nightfall tastes like rain in a river,
I revel in an isolated silence,
I hear this ringing tune,
Audible to only me.
My voice, however, resounds-
Crossing the patchy grass,
It weaves under the city track.

Darker, its louder.
Blending against the smooth grain,
Only when it quiets do I hear past.
It's a calm journey in my car,
Sights are beautified,
Aesthetic, glorified.
Tired?
Let's rest by the roadside,
Time won't slow,
But when dawn arrives,
So will a fresh mind.

I feel too tired to cry anymore,
A headache's coming along.
Tracing the curve of my brows,
The pounding furiously responds.

I feel too tired to breath,
Could someone else do it for me?
Or better yet,
Put me to sleep,
So that I can silently pass on.
An enjoyable delusion.

Its unlikely it'll happen naturally.
It must be me,
To hold the hand of peace.
Burning and extinguished,
I ***** everything into my hands.
Crawling with filthy mold,
I stare down my insides,
Observing my excessive intake,
Of failure and reward.

I feel too tired to live,
I'd like you to help me brain,
As we're not very useful, at all.
So shut down casually,
And end this miserable lull.
You may think I am dramatic,
And right would you be,
I am useless,
Meaningless and weak.
It's only right I get used and thrown away.
(Please, keep me safe from it).
I don't want things from you-
I'm fine on my own.
Die young?
Good riddance;
At least then, I'd be isolated.

Drooping, sore eyelids,
I squint at the white-blue fluff in my arms.
Peering blurrily,
I knock against the morning hours.
Stuck in the pale grey of last night,
The sight of snow gathering tears.

I'm awake-
But it feels like dreaming.
This perpetual state of forced relaxed-alertness,
Dragging my focus to its knees.
Begging, please, please,
I just want to fall asleep.

Nothing can make me less anxious,
One fiery ball of pent up horror.
I'm lost in every fragmented memory,
The floors wiped the ceiling with me.
Can I sleep, think, function, walk.
Can I talk to you, normally?
I've tried so hard,
And then you smile once at me,
And fling a giant wrench in my plans.

A little uptick,
Curved in the corner of your mouth.
It's lightly hidden by your nurtured beard,
Hazelnut-brown and stringy-soft.
My heart thumps, beats again.
It's once, twice, a million times,
Outside the eye of the storm.
As you turn your back to me,
I stare dumbly.
All I can muster,
Is a trembling response,
Thrown entirely off by your gaze.

He called me (---)...
Now I really don't know what to do.
I squeal breathlessly into my hands,
Biting the flesh of my lips so hard they begin to drip,
With light, iron-tasting blood.
I anxiously lick away my nerves,
Feeling a burst of joy so uncontained
That my body writhes with it,
Rise up through my chest.

I can't stand to not be near,
I want to pry my way into his head,
Hear his private thoughts and replay them in my mind.
Obsessively, he's constantly present within me,
I can't get away so I start to cry,
These tears are those of Elation.

I'm a fool through and through,
But I don't regret this love,
Eternally grateful for his presence,
As I get to witness his perfection.
Unquenchable passion overrides,
But I can't face him with the will,
To pin him down,
Stare unabashedly into his eyes,
Caress his face and rustle his beard,
I don't want to push him further,
So it must wither,
As the morning arrives.

So bitter as it rolled past her lips, over her tongue,
Melted into Fall, crunching, cracking leaves,
Yet so sweet - a hint of pumpkin pie,
Cinnamon dripped over the edge.
It left a strange, comfy taste in her mouth,
All woolen blankets and velvet pillows; she was content in their embrace.

The next day, it was hearty oak.
Bark crackled beneath her canines,
Thick warmth, smooth and full,
Drizzled generously upon it,
It's tender flame melting the crust to chocolate.
She savored the taste,
reminiscent of small adventures.