The funny this is
Regardless of how many cigarettes I smoke , my lungs still remember the pattern that you made me breathe

The lilac sky still holds the memories of the days where you looked up and saw a jungle in a minute number of leaves ( I always loved how you looked when you didn't try )

My hands sometimes plead and moan due to your touch being absent.

And regardless of how much time I spend on convincing myself that I do not miss you , it all comes running back.
The fact that no one will ever have me as vulnerable or innocent as you once had me .

Lastly thank you for showing me that happiness can be found in someone else , sometimes even when we are not looking for it

Beneath the darkest old oak tree
There lies a secret of love now past
Where a demon of the other world
Holds a heart so true

She gave her love to this dark soul
He promised her the world would know
That together they ruled the darkest night
And moonbeams cry her name

Hades saw that this true love
Would blight all darkness and ruin his world
And banish he did this demon soul
To live eternal in the sunshine glow

As a mortal this devil knew
No black magic could ensue
So true love would be a harder task
But one worth while for him at last

Again Hades played the ace and in a storm
He did race towards the woman that might take
A demon love and change the way
All dark and evil lived

So to blight the hand of his master now
The demon drew upon his brow
An angered face of hate for him
And planned to **** the love within

The blade was sharp and tears burned deep
When love together fell asleep
Beneath the earth of that old oak tree
Where lovers carve their name

I
        Peel a petal
From            your love

Each one
        Falls so gently
                     Upon a whisp of wind doth blow
And carries each one towards me

Eyes
       Fluttering
                      Mind
                              Sputtering
                                               Lips
                                                     Muttering

Hands
          Shaking
                      Bones
                               Aching
                                          Heart
                                                   Breaking

Pain
      Showing
                    Tears
                            Flowing
                                        Sorrow                                                  
                                                  Growing

Nails
        Gripping
                      Skin
                            Ripping
                                        Red
                                             Dripping

Girl
      Falling
                Mother
                           Calling
                                      Life
                                           Stalling

Head
       Pounding
                      Silence
                                 Sounding
                                                Death
                                                         Grounding.



-ARI

you were dead
and I was tired of digging my own grave.

Babble on oh brook of sighs
As thine hand rests on your silver shine
Reflections of my heart devine
Ripple out in wasted time

Mirrored faces lay upon my mind so dear
Cannot I see through this turmoil of fear
Yet my hand does rest so sweet
Upon your silver water

How dropplets now hang on tight
To the tips of my fingers
Before they fall back into you
This babbling brook I see

Birds sing up high in trees that shade
Your banks where love was made
Yet quietly the brook flows past
As the hand of love rests upon its silver mask

you were an *******
and I was so tired of being **** on.

you became my lungs
and without you it was so hard to breathe.

You married the woman
Who's every bone is riddled
With ever pulsing anxiety.

The woman who insists on asking
The same question a hundred times
"Do I look alright?"
"Are you sure I look alright?"

You married the woman
Who's tolerance for heavy crowds
Is completely non-existent.

The woman who's most comfortable
While lost inside the fetal position
Or hidden beneath dark blankets
While rocking in your loving arms.

But,

You married the woman
Who sews mundane words into
Intricate stanzas; bringing life to paper.

The woman who's scrapped her
Shredded soul and tormented mind
From the pavement of hell a hundred times,
Yet still she believes in God.

You married the woman
Who often has nothing for herself
For she gives her all to help the world.

The woman who will stand tall
As a beacon of hope for those who
Have been devoured by creeping anxiety
Even when she wants to disappear.

You did not marry anxiety.
You married an incredible woman.
Thank you for teaching me that.

-ARI