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Amy Henson May 2010
Sweet dreams baby,
No goodnight kiss,
A 'X' over my heart,
No way you can miss,
Your aim is impeccable,
And I have no way out,
I'm tired of lying,
And living with doubt,
Shot straight through the heart,
In and again,
My lover's own bullet,
Ended the pain,
Not a bullet of lead,
No gun to be found,
And from a lonesome trigger,
There was never a sound,
A gun called fate,
A bullet called love,
The target I became,
Salvation- unworthy of,
You saved a girl,
Who would never have known,
A love like this,
Would ever have grown,
From a friendship and laughter,
Something beautiful came,
All thanks to a lover,
And his flawless aim.
Amy Henson Aug 2010
The absence of you is everywhere I go,
Especially in the cold, blue night outside,
My breath leaves it's ghost on the window,
Just like you left me here.
Amy Henson Jun 2014
A person does not get to experience one thousand great loves,
Nor do the heavens allow us the convenience of choosing,
Why or when or where... Or how,
How sweetly does he calm me,
How tenderly do his hands hold,
And most of all how truly he does know me,
I never made the choice to love this man at this time in this way,
But I do.
Amy Henson Jun 2014
Two come together,
Not in thundering celebration,
But quiet rejoicing,
Safe and silent for some time,
I held you before I knew you,
Where no one has been before,
Heart of my heart,
Love of my life,
Of me and by me,
But you slipped away,
I held you before I knew you,
Sweet little one of mine.
Amy Henson Sep 2010
What have I done?

My legs tremble beneath me.
My arms lay paralyzed at my sides.
I want so badly to reach out to you and touch your cheek where I kissed it yesterday, or your shoulder where my head lay last night.
I want to retrace your smile and reenact your laughter.

Your face is stone cold now and the man staring back at me I do not recognize.
There is hatred beneath your gaze, fixated on me.

What have I done?

But I've been here with you before.
This dying inside comes naturally to me.
And here on the ground lying in a sea of should-have's, this is home.
Amy Henson May 2010
Promise me the stars and moon,
And all sorts of silly things,
Like a cricket's song in mid-June,
Or a pair of calico butterfly's wings,

Promise me a tall oak tree,
With many sturdy boughs,
So that they might cast a shade on me,
As you make these silly vows,

Promise me a million things,
And say they might be true,
But not a matter of it to me means,
Because all I want is you,

Promise me to be there always,
With an open heart and laughter,
And always to face a new day.
Like it's our happily ever after.
Amy Henson May 2010
Hello stranger,
With cold eyes,
Lust is on your breath tonight,
On this floor,
Where so many have been before,
Just like you and I,

You are so familiar,
In the strangest way,
I know that look in your eye,
Wanting every part of me,
In the heat of everything,

These people swarm around,
Seeking what cannot be found,
Love on this dance floor?
Stranger you are making me dizzy,
With all your talk and kisses,

Stranger, you are so convincing,
With your blue eyed lies,
Making me forget my promises,
Made with a sober heart,
Not tonight, stranger, not tonight,

Tomorrow is a new day,
To pay for my mistakes,
I'm sorry lover,
Strangers get stranger everyday.
Amy Henson May 2010
Silly little daisy,
Sway your head in summertime play,
Turn to face a warm sun,
Pick'd by a small hand,
Woven into a crown,

Silly little rain drops,
Born from a clear, blue sky,
Fall on tiptoes to earth,
Land on my tongue,
I smile,

Silly little toad,
Sings songs in tenor voices,
Outside my open window,
Stay a while and sing,
I will sing along,

Silly little girl,
Golden wheat hair,
Blue ocean eyes,
Rose lips,
Smile.
Amy Henson Aug 2011
My heart beats,
But shallow does it echo,
Cold drumming,
A  hallow, sickly thud,
Blue blood barely moving through,
Without you,
But I carry on,
Your voice whispers,
Knowing words alone cannot satisfy me,
Hold me like a hand-me-down pearl,
I am fragile but you are gentle,
Caressing my everything in the palm of one hand,
The way days hold onto the night in deepest dusk,
The last few dying seconds are the sweetest,
You are like many things,
And none of these things compare to you just being my own.
Amy Henson Sep 2010
Waves of disparity roll in on black tides,
Dark clouds hang from angel's fingers,
They see me and I see them,
They begin to weep,

The day wears on like a deadly disease,
Sick eyes look at me with knowing,
And such a reprieve from endless nothing,
There will never be,

Cold winds blow at my back,
Stirring up the ashes I've left,
I need to know something is out here,
So I fall on my knees and pray,

Beautiful and weary,
I ramble on,
Just looking for a place to lie down,
And sleep for a while.

— The End —