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Aug 2020 · 116
eroded
Amy H Aug 2020
sometimes silence is the verse;
a cave of visions
where still, the air surrenders
to water and time
seeping through rock
as cuts that carve my heart.

a stream flowing inward,
each drop knew sun but now
reflect the bit of light it meets
and carries life below.
in cold and dark this fortress
makes rest for weary mind.

I wasn’t always thus
but you would never know.
a soul is built
from life eroded.
come, guest of mine~
walk through what I have made.
Jul 2020 · 87
Comet Vernon
Amy H Jul 2020
Comet Vernon never stays.
the specialty is a fly by
in the dark of night;
zooming long away
then drifting close,
kissing your stratosphere-
just not enough
to melt it’s core.
~~the razzle dazzle show~~
would end for us all
if Vernon was ruled
by gravity
<--more than velocity.-->
cover your eyes
if comets aren’t your thing.
best not burn yourself
by it's luster.
Come and go, man.
Jun 2020 · 167
the band man and me
Amy H Jun 2020
sing me a tune, Band Man
rock me to weep.
take me to heaven
on a song I can keep

my heart has a melody
you seem to find it.
the rhythm surrounds me
and in my soul binds it

rolling and swaying
we feel the same groove;
laughter in unison
as one body move

no time to be weary
on memory wings;
when this bird comes flying
we leave all the things

behind us is worry,
lose anger and fear;
we have only music,
a few happy tears

ride into the moonlight
on serenade of peace;
its waves will hold and thrill us~
may magic never cease.
This is when I know I am still me, finding a write in all the fray.
Apr 2020 · 197
not alone
Amy H Apr 2020
looking past mundane and bore
the isolation such a chore
remember what we do it for~
to not repeat a sickly lore.
the pestilence in days of yore
spared neither emperor or *****.

though we now find common fight
absent kin is not quite right
or lover in the dead of night
too far to hold my body tight.
I ask with no one in my sight
when parts this darkness for the light?

I miss the skin and velvet touch
and loving in our dreamy hutch
but we all know this feeling-such-
to bear it with a hopeful hunch
to greet with kiss and ardent clutch
when time has healed the world that much.

so care for neighbor with a prayer
sing a song and bless the air~
‘tis not so much we can not bear.
observe the quiet for it’s rare.
and finding outside beauty fair
feel happy you’ve the time to spare.

until it comes I inward gaze
and see my soul is still ablaze
with hope for man and better days
amidst this heavily pressing haze.
we shall emerge with better ways
of sharing in the heaven’s rays.
We are in this together, apart.
Jul 2019 · 203
au jus
Amy H Jul 2019
it’s roast on the roll
and no au jus.
I haven’t had my
dip in you.

the daily grind
that fills my cup,
isn’t quite
the pick me up.

every tedious
task or chore
passes on
with nothing more.

you didn’t leave
and nor did I,
but something’s gone-
I can’t deny.

there is no draw
without a laugh;
the fun has left
the other half.

it fizzled like
an opened pop;
without some Sun
the flower flops.

it’s kinda sad
but what to do?
my roast was meant
to have au jus.
when it hasn't been the same
May 2019 · 242
the Sun that sets
Amy H May 2019
Nothing is fixed;
like stars that
drift the sky by night
as Earth journeys round
in spite of Orion’s might.
The Sun that sets
ne’er regrets a day
on which it shone;
but all that’s grown is grateful
for the heat and it’s rest.
While Earth and heaven shift
the flowers die,
and stars implode.
I shan’t look back with tears
at love I had
and left in change of years.
All the light that shines
from years away
can sometimes find me, still.
Life and love keep going.
Mar 2019 · 2.4k
sweetheart,
Amy H Mar 2019
a wild heart can’t be broken,
a tame heart keeps the beat,
a heart like yours is spoken
within the sensual heat.
it’s sensitive and open
but careful and neat;
love in the smallest tokens,
the gestures we repeat.
so take the love that’s woken
into your soul so sweet-
a melody unbroken-
and make your mind’s retreat.
For Dollface.
Mar 2019 · 311
your string
Amy H Mar 2019
I’m cutting your string.
The ball can roll
like columbus round the world
looking for the edge.
And I’ll be left
with the short piece
ready to drop it in the trash
while you tangle with your mess.
Sticky fingers,
trapped in knots
wondering how I got away
without a catch.
That’s what happens
when you play with girls
who run with scissors.
I’m sharp as steel
and just as strong.
Be careful
it might be
your fingers bleeding.
It's good to be strong.
Jan 2019 · 1.2k
The Turning Tree
Amy H Jan 2019
(a metaphor...)

Turning times on who I had to be
singed and fragile
rigid as a leaf
wont to tumble
in the wind;
make a fist
see her crumble,
death of Spring
scattered on the ground.

Winter comes
to soothe the scorching,
freezing scars
til finally
the hottest Summer ever
is remembered not felt.
But a tree like me
abides the changing season
emerges thriving.
Seasons of change
Jan 2019 · 359
life is poetry...
Amy H Jan 2019
life is poetry my dear,
while minutes and moments turn to years
and all the laughter, all the tears
teach us to release our fears;
to live like kings surviving jeers.
so raise your glass and let’s make cheers
for love keeps living, far or near;
a story for the poet’s ear.
I’m glad you’re in my story, Dear.
savor every moment, be happy for what is
Jan 2019 · 225
smoulder
Amy H Jan 2019
how does a woman tell
about awakening?
the burning in her breast
the fire that lights
the embers long smouldering
‘neath years of stress
and fight
and proving;
when finally she esteems herself
enough
and sees the lines and curves
for wisdom
wealth
and birth.

knowing her power, real
allowing her to feel
that freedom waits
where shame has fade away.
she knows the joy
of being
this woman-

having this form,
the center of creation
in her body and her soul
to share or keep-
is like a dance.

dance alone she may
or with you

you’ll know her
by the passion of her touch
her laugh
her joy
her zeal for life
when two become one
if first
she knows herself
and so do you
The only way to pure love is through the self. A woman who sees her value is a treasure to those who know her.
Nov 2018 · 526
for you
Amy H Nov 2018
I’m a love kitten
I feel a little smitten
I think I’ve been bitten
by you

the way I stare
across the air
with eyes so fair
at you

it fills my mind
you’re one of a kind
I’m in a bind
with you

I can’t keep back
this love attack
I need some slack
from you

forgive my daze
this lovely haze
my soul’s ablaze
for you

I anticipate
this will be great
but I can wait
on you
you have me up at night
Jul 2018 · 421
you play our song...
Amy H Jul 2018
...I'll write it.
Baby with those blues,
you sing a tune
and smile at me
like miles away we’re going
but not together.
Not for now.
You sail your way
I go mine
“Into the Mystic”
like Morrison.
For your voice and your guitar
I would write another tune,
another lyric sunrise
with you and I held closely
feeling whispers
holding hands
reveling in what we made together.
Ah yes, this serenade I keep.
Your Little gypsy,
My Sailor man,
I’ll build you a port.
I’ll shine my light
and camp a while
if when the fog horn blows
and calls you home
you’ll sail my way.
You play our song,
I'll write it.
For memories, made and imagined, I give you this.
May 2018 · 607
between us
Amy H May 2018
I could write you in
between the lines,
slipping in nuance
like a kiss in the sheets;
but would you stay?
I wish to keep you in
the way you’ve gotten
neath my skin.
Hold me close
and whisper,
“take my body
feed my soul.”
A script we two
compose-
make the love
and write the prose.
Apr 2018 · 422
Ever Rest
Amy H Apr 2018
Everest

with mischievous smile
and painted skin,
if ever man should fly
it would be him.
the world a ground
for wanderlust
(no place could
keep him in)

has bid goodbye
while up he climbs
on quest
to clear his mind.
Africa, Andromeda
mountain peak to star;
no limits of time
or place too far.
‘ere he leaves
this Earth, before we all,
one rock
will surely call.
atop its peak
he’ll stop to rest
Everest, Sam,
ever rest.
For a departed mountain man, my friend.
Apr 2018 · 467
my island
Amy H Apr 2018
I’ve been
woken
by a smile,
a touch,
a laugh;
an interlude
that lifts my mood.
And after a while
I’m aware
of the sea,
the sun
warm on me,
the waves
breaking hard
round my tiny isle
in the midst
of life.
My boat may rock
in the ocean sway
and the salt
can sting my skin;
but an island-
my secret rest-
waits in my dreams
just close enough
to see
when I close my eyes.
A little journey
I someday make
when bid back
by a smile
I desire.
Sweet distraction.
Apr 2018 · 259
Period.
Amy H Apr 2018
I am having problems, punctuated!
by punctuation...
What beguiles me most- you ?
Is that in my (mind) is an idea
so screamingly!!! fantastic that
I should be !¡YELLING!¡
but unless the world can C me—-
and they DON'T—-
then it is up to the limits
of punctuation...
(Insert "Punctuation for Dummies")
and the abbr skill
of 1 feeble and weary writer
to pick from the limits
of her keyboard;
stifling the ~~flow~~ of thought
along the way;
to finally impart such an originally
insignificant thought.
Period.
just having fun.
Apr 2018 · 228
brilliant
Amy H Apr 2018
a million little things
make me smile;
like star light that glitters
in my eyes
when it touches me again.
memories and stars,
the brilliance
of left-over light.
Stars like memories, ya I write for fun.
Apr 2018 · 197
amps
Amy H Apr 2018
intensity is measured in
a  m p s
m i  a  p
a  n  s  i
z  d  i  r
i       o  i
n      n  t
g      a
         t
         e
Power me up baby
Mar 2018 · 236
lover's rent
Amy H Mar 2018
the lover’s rent
is paid in pain;
the memories you’ve made,
are hiding in the dark of mind
waiting for the night.
and when you hit the pillow
with no one lying there,
these visions seep
from misty shadows
to taunt you
as you drift to sleep.
a gasp,
you grab your chest
as if to hold your heart
to rest,
and from this place of madness
find the past is still the best.
the love you lived in
kicked you out;
a homeless, hapless mess
you wander through the visions
from this open wilderness.
it’s cold
it’s isolation
no fire to warm your face
for love has left you out again
you must find new space.
find it deep within.
face the memories
make your peace.
the pain is there to taunt you
until your rent is paid.
The price always has to be paid, and usually after the goods are gone.
Jan 2018 · 286
the dancing man
Amy H Jan 2018
he saw me on a list of gals
and wondering if we might be pals
hit me up for sudden fun.
to his surprise I said I would
and drove to town to make good
on my word I like to dance.
we had a pair of moscow mules
and breaking with the first date rules
he kissed me on the floor.
and here we were with swaying hips
dancing close and pressing lips,
whispering and laughing as we go.
who’s to say what time will tell
if we play our cards quite well
we might do this a lot.
spontaneous fun has turned to more
Nov 2017 · 196
live
Amy H Nov 2017
I hope
therefore I try
I lose
and so I cry.
I dance
to make me high.
I fall
And then I sigh.
I love,
so I will fly.
I live
then I can die.
inevitability
Oct 2017 · 280
fallen under blue
Amy H Oct 2017
Spring has gone to Summer
and Summer falls with me
into the leaves that die
separated from their tree.
the sap has gotten thick
and the flowers nodding off
the birds have disappeared
and grass has gotten rough.
the thing that never changes
the sky that stays so blue
covers me with sunshine babe
like happy thoughts of you.
I see it from a bed of leaves
through branches sleeping now
my dreams away like birds
my body on the ground.
the thing that ever changes
the clouds that cover blue
a feeling bittersweet my love
like all my thoughts of you.
Nothing special. Just an image of a girl day dreaming up at the sky.
Oct 2017 · 253
uncompelling
Amy H Oct 2017
If I was compelling
I would know.
A counterfeit is spotted
by symbols
that fail to show;
signs of value
either there or not.
My throat is full
my eyes are hot.
If I was compelling
it would be telling.
Some things are just universal. It’s not that hard.
Oct 2017 · 222
Symbiosis
Amy H Oct 2017
The artist’s heart hears music
In the silent things
Like flowers of Spring
And clouded sky
The growth of a tree
As time goes by
They need their muse
Like the artist craves
Their inspiration
A symbiotic relation
Where spirit meets the world
And lovely tender things
Are mystically unfurled
To reason and conscience
Not forgotten
But captured
In a song to sing
A painting to savor
A verse to remember
That make the beauties of the world
Last that much longer
It just happened when I went to one of my happy places.
Oct 2017 · 1.9k
Pen, please!
Amy H Oct 2017
Mike Hauser had a brilliant idea to “Pass the pen” and see where it got us.  This, Friends, is the result.

I write of the stars
I write of the moon
I write of the things
That I love to do
I write of the lies
While telling the truth
And when I am through
I pass the pen to you


I read the things
that went before
and add my thoughts
for you to write more
of things we love
and things we hate
so here's the pen,
now contemplate!


I wait like a kid
the anticipation
breaks my quiet
like a train in station
with thoughts
pouring out
like the traveling weary
so here's the pen
"now what's my hurry?"


While looking at this
And studying that
As our poetic peruse
Comes up to bat
With much more in store
From the writer's’ knack
I jot down my last line
Then pass the pen back


and now it get's fun
with my lines and yours
at least it keeps me
from doing my chores!
fingers be nimble
brain be quick
I finished this part
now here's the Bic.


With words tattered and torn
I have you here to mend
Don’t know where I’m going
Brain lights on dim
With little or no warning
Here it comes again
All on a whim
I hand you the pen


*so who will care
if we make no sense
“these poets here
must have the bends!”
but all the same
we’ve had our yen
it was a good run
let's retire the pen
Thanks Mike!  That was fun.  Now maybe some of you can grab a buddy and see what happens.  To put this in context, all the stanzas went round in under an hour.  A dizzying frenzy.
Oct 2017 · 324
lost line
Amy H Oct 2017
I had a line but she left
when my pen insulted paper.
The alabaster canvas
wanting nothing of my stains,
sent the line away by screaming.
I lost her
in my pain.

The line flew to the wood
like a fairy sparkling green
and now is lost to wonder
dropping silver magic
round the blooms
on the leaves;
her hiding trick.

If you wander in the wood
keep an eye for me.
When you catch her
please be true.
The line I lost to wonder
belongs to me,
not you!
Last night I lost a line on my way to dreaming.  Who brought her back to me?
Oct 2017 · 280
picture wish
Amy H Oct 2017
If I could be a photo
I'd be hers;
with sand-kissed cheek
and golden curls dancing with her eyes.
Her gaze is cast
into the sun,
or something far beyond;
in the shadow of a hand
raised to brow
because her hat was left behind at breakfast.

Beside her a shoulder
strong and warm
adoring each caress
of golden tresses.
He smiles on her profile.
The curve of her cheek
to her squinting eye
show where he
made her laugh
so many times.

There, in warmth of sunset
meet my lover
with the breeze,
a poem in a picture;
just the ocean, him, and me.
I had the first stanza of this in draft, forgotten these 7 months.  Finding it this morning was serendipity maybe, but today the longing inspiration is full.
Oct 2017 · 578
ahead
Amy H Oct 2017
“No,” she said “just no.”
I wilted,
watching her detachment
as if I was an insect crossing her plate
to be brushed aside.
Embarrassed, shutting down
where hope to share myself had sprung
but met her disdain.

But I’m your mom,
and they don’t care,
these strangers without a single string to your heart
or mine.

And yet she yanks on mine
as if my thoughts will hurt them.

What can I do
to get through to you?

It’s not my life but yours,
and someone else who loves you
that may fight
then move away.
I pray it’s not ahead for you.

I don’t have the luxury.
You demand my heart
the way you did my womb.
The hope of all our years
placed in my arms and at my breast
after sweat and tears had left my body.

My baby,
my everlasting love,
my singular weakness.
The one I could never turn away.
Dismissing a part of me with “No”
as if I need permission to be tender
and reveal myself.

Where did I go wrong?
I don’t allow this from anyone.
I walk.
But no one else has my soul by a cord,
through my heart,
taking nourishment for life
and sending back a sense of purpose.

Nothing greater in joy or pain,
than mother.
And this, I know,
is *ahead of me for life.
For anyone who has ever been bruised by their child.
Oct 2017 · 382
the world's a poem
Amy H Oct 2017
I'm in your head with what I've read.
Sorry?  You say I'm not?
If we don't want the attention,
then why write this rot?

The poet is a complex breed;
they "spill it" for the page
but deny the closest knowing,
hiding source of love or rage.

Poetry, a selfish sport
we tease the world with rhymes
then troll the lines of someone else
as if we're owed the cries.

Not for public viewing
except what we control;
we measure just the prettiest
and the rest we hold.

Who really knows a writer
except themselves?
Our deepest, truest secrets
we hold upon our shelves.

By this the world's a poem
we wind together deep;
we ought to open up our hearts
let all the feeling seep.
Just rambling.
Oct 2017 · 453
jade
Amy H Oct 2017
beauty from openness,
vulnerable and soft
finds a way to surface
only after pride is lost.
but pride is hard to break
behind a stony wall
to keep the ego safe,
my heart from shrinking, small.
much as heart desires
to flaunt about the sleeve
fear can keep it hidden
if I think you will leave.
what is the precious stone
that weighs me down this way?
pulling in my chest,
not diamond, but jade.
pride is a game
one can play alone.
release takes two
but cuts to the *bone.
Pondering.  Be brave.
Oct 2017 · 350
Old Friend New
Amy H Oct 2017
I smile for a while
observing this new style
of speaking with someone
I recall.
The rocks and hills,
contests of wills
have given way to
waves across a sea.
An ocean of time
forgiving sublime;
you’re you
and I get to be me.
So now my friend,
my brother,
the face I wear is true;
just because I’m me
and you are you.
A nice change
Sep 2017 · 382
prizes
Amy H Sep 2017
An hour planned
an evening stolen;
time fleeing on it’s wings
dropping silver feathers round our feet.
I found one by morning light
lifting it to see it right.
It was your voice, your laugh
your whisper against my cheek.
These like prizes for taking heart,
leaping one more time,
I found treasure.
Rewards for faith to seek.
Expect the unexpected, but to have it, you have to take a chance.
Sep 2017 · 342
FORTRESS
Amy H Sep 2017
For a time tossed
Over rocks and in the under-tow,
Released from the fight I
Tame my spirit;
Reclaiming my composure to
Embrace lessons learned
Since time began to
Stir my soul.
This is what happens when you wake from a dream to life that has become far too simple, again.
Mar 2017 · 741
who paints the dawn
Amy H Mar 2017
we meet by morning
you and I,
when our soft glow
doth light the sky;
when lovers wake
beneath the stars
we hide by day,
and guard with Mars.
we never meet
but always kiss
while our love hangs
in Heaven's bliss;
jealous of
the world below
where lovers' touch
they nightly know.
play on, the fools
of love, play on!
and don't forget who
*paints romantic dawn.
This morning a friend suggested I look at how the Moon hung in the sky like a second Sun.  This poem was the result.
Feb 2017 · 740
true love hath no season
Amy H Feb 2017
this space between, no match
for tender thoughts.
my heart can find you
in the dark.
you have me.

I know not when love began;
once alive,
love hath no beginning.
and past my quiet lips
the music in my soul
bares dreams of certain joy,
made sweeter still
as memories of silence fade away.
were we ever not this way?

the mind can know a spot in time,
or reason,
but to the spirit
*true love hath no season.
When love came slowly.
Jan 2017 · 730
my self
Amy H Jan 2017
my self most intimate,
unspoiled,
keeping every scar alive,
albeit cloaked in metaphors
like bandages of silk
that hide the oozing;
my self most raw and
un-defiled,
unguarded,
revealed in phrases
composed to ponder
with your time;
is here in lines of poems
playing like a child in the trees,
like a game of hide and seek
a breeze may help you win.
but to find me
you must read between my lines.
This one just appeared after writing a first poem for my new love.
Jan 2017 · 601
like a melody he moves
Amy H Jan 2017
like a melody he moves
the rhythm of his mood
reflecting clouds;
grey turns to silver
shone on his head,
and a smile
so soft across his face
brings my mind
and longing to his space.
the dance of a rag in hand
smooth like jazz
caressing every surface.
nothing is neglected
by long legato strokes
along a smooth, pale canvas
cleared for his next composition
to do it all again.
I am jealous of his kitchen.
Sep 2016 · 586
berry good
Amy H Sep 2016
like sugar on berries when I look at you
my heart gets soft and juicy
and I wonder what to do.
the sparkle in my eyes like frost on a pop
freezing my gaze on yours
and I don’t want to stop.
but berries and sugar are just a flavor
and what if you prefer
a bite with a little more savor?
I cannot tell what’s in your heart
or if you think I’m sweet
but I may fall apart.
this is either berry good or not at all
every berry crushing
under my fall.
oh that awkward stage of the first crush on someone
Aug 2016 · 537
anchored away
Amy H Aug 2016
time and distance
too little and too far;
my love has sailed
away…
an anchor never hoisted
and sails with no wind
while I wait on the rocks
eroding.

salt is cruel
swept in my wounds
where sun burns it in
like crust…

why wait?

the tide is rolling
but you my love are working
to remain
away.
time is on your side
not mine.
I left the rocks so it is time to share this one.
Aug 2016 · 759
the muse
Amy H Aug 2016
a poem wrote me
almost before I knew.
my hand my mind my pen
just a muse
for sentiment that oozes
like sap from a tree
after Winter harsh and cold
has just released the grip
of icy fingers
melting into Spring.
a poem wrote me
while hungry earth
beneath my feet
waited for the sugar
nourishing seeds
growing the flowers
to prove that life goes on.
my life goes on
because a poem writes me
still.
What just happened?!  The curse of random poetry.
Aug 2016 · 852
daydream
Amy H Aug 2016
Sunrise wakes me slowly,
moonlight lets me rest.
In between, the light of day
leaves nothing to confess.
If through the fading sunset
my heart sings sweet and loud
by sobriety of daylight
my mind can stop the sound.
What can come of dreaming
where joy will always win?
My life should be a day dream then
and love should never end.
It's new again.
Jul 2016 · 462
out on the limb
Amy H Jul 2016
this limb I’m on
may snap
and from here the ground looks mean.
I didn’t climb here
by myself you know.
but I’m anxious to come down.
if I jump will you duck
or catch me when I fall?
your arms decide my fate.
so how will this go?
my heart has gone ahead.
will you please catch the rest?
these limbs don't bend
to comfort me
but yours could.
the one in power always stands on the ground
Jun 2016 · 893
wipe out
Amy H Jun 2016
blinded by choice
you mistake me at will
for something ill.
misunderstandings
take two minds
but clarity takes heart.
I do not write on walls,
I carve on sand.
but you the wave
would wipe away the moment
as if my heart
would scar the beach
you have eroded for yourself
and you prefer
to hide the truth
I speak.
where have gone my words?
sank beneath your toil
like whispers in white noise.
we can not hear a gentle breeze
when tide is high.
I am baffled but I can't stop the tide.
Apr 2016 · 414
stained
Amy H Apr 2016
someone who resembles you
but not you.
what the hell?
a stormy heart
a quiet smile
eyes a piercing blue.
I know that I’ll be into him
because I’m into you.
some would say I’m broken.
I know I'm soul stained.
a lonely truth I’m living
that it’s not me,
it’s you.
Who hasn't been here?
Apr 2016 · 588
the fortune of a dragon fly
Amy H Apr 2016
dragon fly with silver wings
see my soul and show me things.
in my heart and to his ear
sentient wisdom of love's nature.

song and wine have been for naught;
I have given all I've got.
a kindly deed and soft caress
the moonlight and the sun confess.

the wind can take you dragon fly
far past the reaches of my eye
to tell me if he thinks of me
in moments of serenity.

if I see your wings again
I shall know I have a friend.
though space and time we can not share
I will understand it, fair.
a rambling on the messages of nature and connection of souls
Apr 2016 · 488
futility
Amy H Apr 2016
entirely possible,
very probable,
highly likely,
that you are
impossible.
it's an explanation
plausible,
that you're impossible.
it has to be the reason;
the exercise was futile,
trying to keep my grip
and ride.
thrown off,
again my possee
gives a hand
for dusty pants
and ****** knees,
while you
keep up the dance
of the bucking bull.
No embarrassment
you tossed me off
so quick;
just that I kept choosing
to try and tame a *****.
A little grit from a little way back.
Apr 2016 · 417
notes of honey
Amy H Apr 2016
a song growing thin,
a stream of honey nearly gone;
I wait
as the last note forms.
forever it falls
and silence
finds me full
and hungry.
so I dip my finger again
twisting, turning
the golden promise
of another lyric sunrise,
a day in fields of green
where bees and birds and I
roam free.
if silence is the night
between my heart and a song
I pray it hasten.
I wrote this some time ago and never shared it.  I couldn't quite be sure I like it as it was.  Tonight I'm taking it out on a limb.  I was trying to describe the moment after a beloved bit of music concludes, like the silent space in an old record.
Apr 2016 · 692
My Sad Verses
Amy H Apr 2016
I've missed you.
But it's not your fault
you secret little ***** of my pain.
My interest never dies
I swear
though time for you
I haven't had to spare
since I've grown happier
with every passing day.
Do not complain.
I'll pick you up again
when my heart bleeds for no one
standing near.
For in an hour
that finds me lonely
I will want your listening ear
'neath my pen,
taking stains
so I don't have to wear them.
You take them,
hold them,
wait for me.
My little book of verses,
I'll return
with tears like kisses.
Bittersweet poems.
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