To you
who’s silence
pains me deeply

I admit,
I still converse with
you in my head

I have slowly forgotten
the sound of
your bewitching voice

But I remember how
your small mouth  
was my greatest desire

The piercing sound of
your silence pains me

I wish to hear you speak
for as long as I live

I feel a fire starting under my ribs
It is swallowing everything,
my heart, lungs,
and memories too

Or I may just be missing you
to the point where I set myself ablaze

Tell me,
does my cloud of smoke not reach you?

I suffocate with a burning longing
Do you not understand?
I burn, I burn, I am burning for you

Be with me
if only for a moment
For soon nothing
will remain of me

Longing is trammeled in my throat
Oh the honeyed years
Before I knew what to miss,
Untrusted, unspoken
I exhale its blue haze
Between the last note sung
And the first note heard.
You are the wonted dream—
The consoling ache
Wearing away at softened bones
With every wish
Unheard, unanswered
The stars are so beautiful and so cruel
Our untethered threads
Adrift in the firmament
Uncut
Yet untied.

My love is
pleading
before me
to make you God!

you shape my waking hours
I try to pick a nice perfume
I make sure I leave early
I look around just to see you for a fleeting moment
and I smile when I do

I pace just to daydream of you
your hands on my hips, your lips on mine
I turn the lights off early
and as I drift off to sleep, I pretend I’m in your arms

I could scream it from the rooftops
(if it weren’t a secret)
you’re my muse, you’re my one wish
I want you, and only you

I miss the old me
Old old old old me
Young me
Full of life me
Still
Innocent me
Now I don’t like me
I let you take me
let you break me
I still can’t face it

I miss the old old old old me
Old me
Young me
Full of life me
Still
Innocent me
Now I got scars on me
Scars on my heart
Scars on my eyes
Scars on my brain me
What do I see?
I miss the old old old old me
Old me
Young me
Full of life me
Still
Innocent me

What do you see?
See I can’t see me
Too in the dark type
Never turn on the night light
Always assume the worst type
I miss the old me
old old old old me
Old me
Young me
Full of life me
Still
Innocent Me.

hands sliding
sounds gliding
minds swirling
in this dance
of stillnes

gaps filled
with
longing
arising
dwelling