Touch me with eyes closed
to memorize
every line.

Kiss me with eyes open
to watch
as I melt with you.

If you tell me you kiss like you speak
I'll drink these words
as they fall from your lips.

like the sunlight
when days turn dark and cold.

like the comfort of home
when I've been traveling.

like a breath
when my lungs scream for air.

I miss you.

Enchantment is a fools game,
one we’ll play with raw abandon.

Tastes of bitter honey,
of wishes we can’t count on.

Consider your challenge called,
before the end you will be mine.

I hope you know what you’re asking for,
to the risks I remain blind.

Have you erased me?
As easily as the flame was lit
Did it burn out?

Have you erased me?
You loved my blush, my smile
Have you washed the sight away?

Have you erased me?
I was your good morning, you my goodnight
Does time still feel the same to you?

Have you erased me?
I was your muse and you mine
Did the words drain from you?

Have you erased me?
My soul sighed when it met you,
Is yours broken now too?

Have you erased me?
It was likely never permanent
but it was a moment I lived for.
Have you erased me?

The middle of the night
allows a loose tongue.

And to the light,
my darkness was shone.

For each painful step
you held on.

Thank you for showing me
I'm worthy of being loved.

I find myself here again
head in heads
starring at the emptiness behind closed eyes.
The world around me falls silent to the storm thundering inside.

Why am I here again?
Feeling so helpless, drained
with 24 hours in the day I devote 23 to everyone else.
To anyone who needs me
to everyone who needs me.
Everyone does not include myself,

I seek solace in between heartbeats and sighs.
I gather myself in dark corners,
moments alone as someone looks away.
I force my voice up to a chipper tone,
and cement a smile on my face.
I remind myself that this is not the end,
an ironic thought that should be comforting,
but makes my soul weary,

Here I am again
head in hands
stapling my will back into place
like a worn pack of papers, thumbed through too often, too harshly.
A whisper of a sigh
hold it together again
the day marches on,
and so to must I.