I keep meaning to give you
all the letters that I
wrote
and to
resist
this restraint, my hand holding onto
the paper
of the words
I almost told you,
felt the need to tell you,
in the silhouette of
candle flame and
sitting alone.

I'm so courageous when I'm
by myself,
and when I know what my lungs
feel like
what my fingers feel like, pinching a
pen to tell you, wholeheartedly,
the things I
will not say

I keep meaning to give you the letters
I wrote you,
I wrote you my secret and

a secret is a loss
that feels like an
ephemeral
victory

I've always found the storms that come from hurricanes so beautiful, the power they bring yet the elegance that accompanies it. You can feel a rush of what can only be described as a combination of hope bringing adrenaline charges and total agony filling fear. So much changes during the rain falling, wind slamming, lifhtning striking, thunder clapping moments. A sudden occurance of peace followed by a grand finale nothing could ever prepare you for. For a few brief minutes you think the worst has passed. Those aeconds of innocent bliss can be the best feeling you have ever had. What follows though blind sides you harder than any 300 pound line backer ever could. It hits you in the deepest pits of your stomach, twisting your guts until you wish they would just get ripped out. Those hours and days after though, those are the times you realize just how horrible the aftermath really is and all of the sudden all that hope and happiness you found from the beauty of it all disappears. All you can feel is an eternal emptiness building, ppuring out of you. At least with a hurricane others can see the pain, the devistation, the horrific sights of the aftermath. When it comes to my storm though I'm the only one who can feel it. There was a time when I thought you were going to be my paradise. The thing that saved me from the constant storms I have thrashing around my head. Turns out even paradise isn't safe from the beautiful destruction of a hurricane. You have moved on to give another the peace you once brought me while I sit here trying to put myself back together. Your name might not be Katrina, but it may as well be.

I can see your heart
Beating in my dream
Pumping harder and faster
About to burst at the seam
Eyes practically made of laughter
And your psychotic smile
With a voice I can feel,
Deep in my soul
Carrying for miles and miles
You made everything real,
Become nothing I've known
You're a ghost of a previous life
Slicing into my sleep
With a double edged knife
Silently waiting to strike
Yet, you always seem to disappear
Just before the final blow
With nothing to see or hear
And no where left to go
I drift off into my mind
A mass of blank space
With no way to rewind
Travel to another place
Or any other time
The distance between falling
and finally waking
Is immeasurably long
Because
This dream has become a nightmare
And not only are you gone
But you were never really there

Her lonely eyes were vacant
devoid of any soul
the face that looked back, hated
a loner's mournful call
The trees around seemed to scream
that she was alone
and bitter was this place
that she called her home
Time seemed to stop
everything was still
her tortured mind moved on
against her will
Her body screamed in protest
her hands quivered in fear
she knew she was next-
her end was near