I sat there next to you
in a cold room
filled with the secret battles
of two lovers
caught in the middle
of failed expectations
and disappointment.

No one knew me
the way that your fingers drew me
when the tips of your nails
mapped out the curves
of my flesh.

No one knew you
the way that my hands knew;
holding your broken soul
collecting the pieces
and doing the science;
molding them with metal and irons
so that when they were reassembled
you'd be stronger than ever
and never break again.

Yet here we are,
perfect strangers
that desire no more
than to feel something
worth feeling...

or to simply just not feel alone.

I am at the edge
of uncertainty
peeking down
into the abyss
questioning whether
or not this fall
would **** me.

My reflection
has become
a stranger
for I do not recognize
the mangled flesh
from opened tissues
where scars now litter
my skin.

My voice is a song
without words
and the musician in me
desires to play along
to the rhythm
of a failing heart
but we are not in tune.
There is no beat.

Yet
we dance the night away
with bottles of ale
searching
for stories to tell
but there are never
any happy endings.

There are just sudden pauses
like commas edited
into our lives
because we aren't sure
where a sentence is going
but we do know
that we don't want it to end.

This is me.
I am the author
of a fantasy with no title.
A living regret
with all my failures
tattooed across my chest.

The familiar voice in my head
screaming...
I was here.
I existed.

She was like the wind.
A chaotic storm
in perfect harmony
with her inner mother Earth.
She was the soil
and everyone that knew her
grew to love the way
she influenced their roots
to reach beyond their stem's end.
She was the fire in the sun
and the warmth
that fueled passion and rage;
lust and yearning.
Her hands were the petals of roses.
Soft and sweet
but guarded by the thorns
of a much darker truth.
For she was so beautiful
that no one could look past it
and see the ugly
that consumed her thoughts.
The depression
and moments of weakness
flaring in the womb;
giving birth to the pain
that crippled the smile
of even a goddess.
I saw beyond the beauty
that was her existence
and peered into her
mangled soul in awe.
How majestic
were the pieces
as they fell like words from her lips
and landed at my feet.

Dragging my bare feet
through scorching shards
of broken glass
scattered like tortured hearts
is just a small price I'd pay.

Ripping my flesh
inch by inch
and letting my wounds drip
from fingertips
is just a small price I'd pay.

Having my eyes
drilled from my skull
so that I would no longer
see the world from this view at all
is just a small price I'd pay.

This is the cost of living
without you at my side.
The fire that burns
Smoke rising from the holes in my eyes.

This is the cost
of letting you leave,
letting you live,
letting you be.

It is a small price I'd pay.

It's that moment
right before the pain
swallows what will
you had left to struggle
against the tides
in the sea you had come to love.

It's the way in which
the garden you had spent
your entire life growing
withers and you lay
amongst the vines as they decay.

It's the way the moonlight
touches the darkened sky
but the blackness never fades.
It just goes on
for an eternity.

It's the way her voice fades
and she no longer
sings your name loud enough
for the heavens to hear.

Her eyes no longer crave
to see your smile
nor does her hand
long for the curvature
of your own.

When the goodbye is infinite
and the pain runs deep
enough to consume the love
you once had for life.

Goodbye.

She was the light
that hung like a shadow
in the sleepy sky.

Clinging to eternity
the shape of her soul
tugged me closer.

Her skin
was like black glass
cool against my burning heart.

She leaned into me
and all at once
I became overwhelmed.

She is
and she always will be
My Black Moon Goddess.

We laid among the ivory bushes
wearing only the souls
we brought into this world
as we freed ourselves from the soils
of mother nature
and proceeded to plant our roots
deeply within each other.

We sung songs that rippled
like fingertips
across silky skins
and freckled cheeks.

Our gaze hung like forbidden fruit
dangling from twisted branches
too sweet to pass up
though we knew
we would be banished if we indulged.

I'll take the risk just to taste the bits
that make you whole.
To feel your warmth
filling my soul with it's
sweet unforgiving goodness
that has been known
to make men GODS.