I miss––for still I miss.
My lips are stone, and cannot kiss.
My year was long;
What is this "bliss"?
What is love?
I can no longer reminisce.

I miss––for still I miss.
Heart is empty; no roar, no hiss.
A year, and you're still gone,
And poems are written into dawn.
Thoughts are dark like an abyss.

I miss, and only miss...
My thin chapped lips shall never kiss.
Two years have passed;
Depression swallowed my bliss.
It ate my love to you,
And the good old past I reminisced.

I miss, and only miss...
Empty heart shattered in night’s hiss.
Two years, internally harassed;
Demons work my soul at last!
Darling—save me from the absence of your kiss.

Night 1:
I spend my last, and hurting days
Attempting to erase your face,
And the memory of your last hug:
Fingers tugging on the lace
of my dress,
and the purple velvet of the blanket,
Covering both our skins,
Our vulnerability,
And passion.

Night 2:
I am trying to forget,
But you stained me like ashes from a cigarette
On the white fabric you used to wear.
Or still do... who knows?
You haunt me, but I come to trace your silhouette,
And ****, you’re gone again—
Maybe protected in the shadows.

Night 3:
Where are you today, my joy?
Where am I?
I hopelessly wander the empty, sandy dunes,
Watching the full infinite moons
Pass by.

Night 4:
I never thought I would be the one to leave you—
I always thought it would be the other way around.
I am truly lost...
The sandy dunes are, in fact, hills of beige frost,
And I am scared;
I am scarred.
You’re an irreplaceable piece of art,
And I’m too far from where you are.

Night 5:
My hands are shaken, and are bruised.
I am ashamed; I am confused.
Clearly, the only way to **** off a memory is through abuse.
I learned to take a pill—
It does claim to have my pain reduced!
And the velvet,
And the lace,
Are appearing to erase.
Then goes a smudge of colour;
Next, leaves a seraphic face...
What was the purpose of a greyish-blueish gaze?
Who knows?
Who am I?
Who are you?
Who is who?
  I am no one anymore;
  For there is no one to adore.

I miss, and I miss.
But who to kiss, dear? Who to kiss?
It’s been far too long;
Where’s that bliss?
And your touch?
And your kiss?

I miss, and I miss.
With silence my heart may only hiss.
Seven months too long.
I’m weak, not strong!
Darling, I need your sweetened kiss.

I am missing, and still I miss.
Reminisce, is it? Well, I reminisce.
It’s been more than far too long;
I am still without a bliss,
And your touch,
And your kiss.

I am missing, and still I miss.
The silence in my heart roars—
No more does it hiss.
9 months gone wrong;
I’m weary; almost gone.
Darling, my memory of you I cannot dismiss.

Autumn has nothing on me now;
Summer has changed me as a whole.
But winter is coming soon, I fear,
And I'm afraid by spring I'll have no soul.

Spring: a season's anticipation,
Awaiting the exciting summertime...
Crashing down comes ice and snow,
And brings me to the winter-rhyme.

Winter, bearing ugly days––
To bring out nips upon the skin,
And tears to turn to killing hail,
And morals to turn to bitter sin.

Autumn, so full of nothingness:
Empty, and dead, and decaying-brown.
Leaves that swarm the dried-out air
Like clumps of ashes falling down.

Summer, the warm, and lovely season––
"Hurry up," I say, "and run, run, run."
I'm missing sun in every corner;
I'm missing freedom; I'm missing fun.

Her face was like an auto
While being struck by an auto.
And the driver?
Well, the driver just laughed.
“Thanks god my car isn’t damaged;
I stole it yesterday night.”

Before today, I’d never bite the cigarette
You dangled in front of my lips;
But the smoke is the scent of ‘regret’
All over you and our relationship.
The smoke is dense, greying with each puff;
It is poisonous and carcinogenic.
I’ll accept your tease today
Because perhaps our memories with each other will fade away
As the smoke does once it is inhaled and released,
Lifted with the winds.

Copycat, copycat.
Mimic all that I do,
Even though
you know
it's not good for you.

Copycat, copycat.
Do not be a fool.
You can fool
So many people.
But not me;
I will not drool
All over you.

Copycat, copycat.
Giveback my life.
No, I do not care if copying me is how you survive.
No, I hate you a lot... so goodbye.

Copycat, copycat.
I shouldn't call you so:
You're a *****, and I hope that you know.
I appoint you head ***** from now on.
Bam! Scram!
It's about time that you've gone.

I reached for the stars,
And I think I may have reached too far.
The stars, they blistered and scorched my hands,
While I was just trying to understand
Of why in the first place I was there;
Up in space throwing a glare
at the moon.

The moon who shun a godly, divine light,
And at night
Who was so bright, white,
And elegant.
Space who was dark, and as dim as my soul:
The colour of ash and coal.
I was just trying to obtain a stupid goal
That I had.

And the moon was white, and the space was black.
The stars were gold and I had my back
Towards the earth.
But the gold stars and the white moon were not all that
When they brought down an evil wrath
On me.
So the sun, who I actually feared,
Cradled and held me near.
Rocked me from side to side and called me dear.
Circled the earth and formed a year
To teach me that looks can be deceiving,
Misleading,
And can lead to infinte internall bleeding.

I am stuck and forgotten in the past.
I wasn’t planning to rot in this hell.
Still here and all this time has passed.

Time goes by quite fast.
Forever behind the bars of this cell…
I am stuck and forgotten in the past.

I have deprived myself of my sins at last…
But through a trapdoor of the past I fell.
Still here and all this time has passed.

My ******* deeds molested, and harassed
Me, but I’m not trying to dwell.
I am stuck and forgotten in the past.

And now I am done this villanelle at last.
I try to call out but the walls block my yell.
I am stuck and forgotten in the past.
Still here and all this time has passed.

What’s so good about the stars?
Like humans, they live and die.

But at least the burnt-out stars
Look better than the bones of our dead;

The dead who claim to ‘die for us,’
And rise again just like the sun.

Galaxies expand all the time,
And so I hope our minds.

Call the black holes in our space,
The sockets in our eyes.

Swallow is a goof.
Why do you fly like that, bird?
You will harm yourself...

Observe the darkness;
Yet the star and moon shed light;
Yet my head has no
Lit path in itself or a
Way to waltz throughout its night.

Ocean tide, please wash away
All of the misery from yesterday.
And my past, and the winter.
White, frantic snow that made me bitter.

Draw in the sunshine and the love.
Take back a previous life that was rough.
Ocean tide, I know you can
Help me see my love again.

Ocean tide, release your wave.
Blend in with the melted snow and rain.
Move my boat to find my treasures,
Or my pile of long lost letters.

Gold locks and chains buried deep.
I thought that my love was one to keep.
Ocean tide, do be brave,
Though this path is somewhat unsafe.

Ocean tide, it’s getting late.
Do not make me sit and wait.
Search the seas, maybe sky.
I want to see my love tonight.

Splash around your waves of salt.
The loss of my love was all my fault.
Ocean tide, do me well.
I’ll keep the secret... I shall not tell.

Ocean tide, it’s now or never
To find the person I thought I’d lost forever.
The wind is too light to drift you astray.
Please don’t take long or my dead heart will decay.

There is a secret that I only know,
And the time seems so very long ago
That I stepped up and set out to find
My one true love with the ocean tide.

There is the secret which I only know,
Washed away together with the past and snow.
The secret is that with the ocean tide,
Forever one may never hide.

I was the female
Whose eyes and soul
Were like a mystery
Wrapped inside a fairytale.

If there is purpose to life
Then it is death,
As all men die,
And some men mourn.

I’m being burned:
Burned by the water.
The water’s hot,
But I am hotter.

w e  a r e  t h e  o c e a n . . .

      y o u  a r e  t h e  s u n s e t . . .

                        I  a m  t h e  s t a r l e s s
                                                         s k y . . .

You have a mother;
She doesn’t know
That I’ve given you a paper
That you have yet to throw.
In other words,
Your mom’s a ***.