From the subtle strokes
of a solemn wrist.
I can see so much
of her on this page.

It could be sadness,
or laughter.
Love sonnets,
or groceries.

Like her eyes,
I get lost
in the flow
of her lines.

❦

A child cries over
a hard candy fallen
from his mouth,
little black suit,
a heads length over his chair.

He doesn’t mourn
Like his mother.
Why should he?
The world is chaos.
He cries therefore
he breathes,
he doesn’t understand
the dead are only
memories.

❦

Look at the leaves,
How they grow
and they die.
You would never believe
How the sunset could rise.
The flame can grow cold and the water
can dry,
But the lesson I learned was to remember
those eyes.
Haunting and holding
the ghosts of my past,
I wanted so badly,
one love to last.

And just as the leaves grow,
So do I,
Watching the sun set a million times,
I wanted a difference,
to carve my own path.
So I'll keep half a glass full till my life has elapsed.
Never forgotten is your name
in my heart.
I'm sorry I had to, I'm sorry
it hurt,
But like a leaf I will grow,
and thus I will die.
And before that happens,
this life needs to be mine,
at least for a time.

❦

There used to be somewhere to go,
A rush of iced breathe, ponder
Why the air can’t satisfy your lungs.
And you scaled with such sympathy
For a mountain that will inevitably forget.  

May rather the thought of your home,
Settle cold toes near a vent, listen
To the empty rumble of the furnace.
And you stood there expressionless
In a cage made of your dreams.

❦