Night rain drips from the window
No light in a room of shadow
He left her there, facing her tears
He left her there, living her fears

So she hated thinking of life alone
Used a knife, cutting to the bone
Sits down with no will to resist
Blood like a river from her wrist

The tears have dried, no longer weepy
She closes her eyes, she is feeling sleepy
All the good times come into her head
Now she no longer dreams for she is dead

Night passes into the day time hours
A man comes to the house with flowers
Last night he is sorry if he offended
Unprepared for how those actions ended

True love cannot be tampered upon
Or enclosed in glass and released at will,
It is not an insignificant slave
At the beck and call of its master,
For love has no master and its power so great
That once touched by love's endearing caress,
One must blindly obey.

True love does not follow reason
For reason could not understand a lover's heart,
It is not a pupil that can be taught
Nor a henchman that can be ordered around,
For love is free and unbinding
And all feeble attempts to restrain it shall be in vain.

True love cannot be grown from the seed of lust
Or plucked from jealousy's petals,
For once the desire has waned
The fruits shall wither and rot.
It needn't ask permission to reside in one's heart
For like a thief in the night
Love can come and go as it pleases.

Blessed are lovers' eyes
For they can see true beauty,
For beauty can only be seen
Through true love's eyes.

I am in a dream full of romance.

A Young war hero arrives home with
A broken spine and he says
He wants me
And a broken house
With a crooked chimney
And a red door.

I warn him, quietly.
I tell him that my door is green
And that when I open it
The wind will always blow it shut again.

He hands me a can of paint
And he kisses me on my lips.

I live in a broken house
With walls full of bones
behind a red rusted door.
I do not use my door.
Only thieves use red doors
And I use the skylight
Sometimes,
                                                                ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                    I wish I were still too stubborn to be lonely.

A man knocks on my rusty red door
And I yell at him through a broken window.
He has a boat,
And this sea captain takes me on his ship
Under heavy woven sails.
He names me first mate
But keeps me in the kitchen
Until we start taking on water
And I push him off the stern
And sink the boat myself.