Ah please understand
I didn't say what I wanted to say
Because I didn’t know
If it was the right thing to say

Now I know
And it’s too late

A photographer
Arriving past the golden hour
Loses the last ray of light and
Returns empty handed

In my dreams, you alway write in purple
As you scribble my name and
As you scribble yours

It’s a color that suits you well, I think
And you wear it gracefully
It is not typical like blue or black
It is not flamboyant like pink or orange
It is not harsh to read like yellow or red
It is dimmer than brown and lighter than green

It is purple, like the deep night before the stars arrive
It is purple, like a streak of light in the dark

I will never forget you, you know
I just hope you will always remember
How special purple is
And how special you are

He screams and wails
No one knows why

When they ask
He smiles and laughs

Empty
Silence

Little paved driveway behind the gray classrooms
Creaking bleachers of the tennis courts
Orange coarse grit of the racing track
Thin stone pathway leading to the scarlet oak Tree
Upside-down chairs behind dim window shades
Rusty lockers all along a silver row
Black monitors beneath monthly calendars
Even the Lunch spot under the full oak Tree

Thin sheets of rain fall
Eyes blur
Deep breath
Scream
Silence
Empty

I first saw it beneath the setting sun
A string of gold against the purple clouds
It stood before the edge of the divide
Between the raging sea and the rolling clouds

I dove at the sight of Hope
Washing my hair with salty sand
There is the beacon beyond turbid seas
Haven to repose and a harbor to dock

The waves came, crashing, crashing
It grayed the world with soaring height
It became my eyes and all I see
And when I got back on top

The lighthouse was gone
Buried beneath the dome of the clouds
As the sea and the sky embraced
So passes my Hope

Last night
I had a nightmare.
I was in it.

I molded darkness into my throne
and now I reap the death
of another angel
crashing with her beautiful broken wings