When glass fogs,
And I see her prints,
(Those flat and cold smear fossils),
I know they're oval ghosts,
Or bodies.
Lonely remnants,
Of
Some girl,
Some body,

    

Just that,
No more.

But the prints, they stay.
Long after the funeral bouquet
Decayed by her grave.
After it became more difficult to be brave,
Day by day, until
I couldn't, or
I can't, because
This struggle doesn't end
Until it's over.
We bleed, are broken
And grow older,
Burdened by the inherited blame
That we shoulder.
We are so many lost, adrift,
Darkly hidden from rescuing planes and ships,
     Yet,
Deep in our abysmal rift,
I found the peak of existence,
Resting on her gold petal lips.
I lived more in the moments she blessed me with,
Than I have lived ever since
And if I could choose, I would live in my youth
With her,

Just that,
No more.






*Critiques are very much appreciated.

I was alone, yesterday,
     When I began to dissolve.
It didn't hurt at all,
     Except in an abstract sort of way.


The mirror showed cold bone-
     Clean white where skin should be.
A crimson static filled our home,
     And an achy resonance filled me.


In my ocean of dissolution,
     Breaking down for absolution,
I cry not for me,
     but you;
For the burden of carrying not one heart,
     but two.


I felt so vivid as I bled to the sky.
          Scattered to brilliant blue stars, never to die,
I'll be the leaves that fall, the birds that fly by.
              In the next life, when we meet, we'll retry,
          And I'll be better, I promise,
     Because I love you,
          More than anything.
Nothing was your fault.





*Critiques are very much appreciated.

i close my eyes to see her
because that's the only time i do.
i dream of what we could have had,
the world against just us two.

now my will is gone
and i'm failing
to find strength outside of her.
my world in her eyes but her face is turned
everything's burning and i've nowhere to run.

you loved me then, so love me now,
we used to say "i love you" like a vow.
you can' have forgotten all the years, all of me,
our soft, quiet first kiss or me climbing that tree.

but if you don't miss me,
if the anger's too much and
the love's not enough, if the thought
of living our lives separately doesn't
feel like a noose around your neck
then,
i'll move on.

for you, i'll move on.
or just step back and
let you, at least.
my soul met its mate
and is dedicated.
you might not be mine,
but i'll always be yours.

so if you ask if i'm alright,
i'll say i'm just fine,
because the burden of this love
is now solely mine.

I shall write you a letter every day of my life

Telling you one more thing that I love about you

So if I shall leave this planet before you

It’ll be in these letters that our love will live on

And you’ll remember how much I love you even when I’m gone.

I do like him and that’s a fact. I like who he is and his looks are simply an additional thing that can be appreciated. He is kind and I like that. I like the way he walks, and talks, and does everything. His eyes. Holy moly. His eyes. I hate to be cliche and all, but sometimes that’s what the world needs to hear about, those utterly cliche moments. To be completely honest I’ve liked him since the moment I met him; the very moment I saw him. There was something about him that entranced me. I don’t know what that thing was, but it has haunted me. Now we are friends, but something deep down in me has always been drawn to him. I enjoy seeing him…when I do. I wish I could see him more. Truthfully though I denied my gut feeling about him because I thought it was too soon for me to start liking someone. I buried what I felt and I settled for simple friendship, but every time I speak to him or honestly got the chance to look into his beautifully blue eyes (oh that sounds so ooey gooey and girly, but I can’t help it!) I am reminded of that first feeling I got when I met him. I don’t know of a word that describes exactly what I felt, but hopefully someday I’ll come across it or make one. For now I’ll have to compensate by using way too many short and unspecific words that fail terribly. I like him. I even remember the moment when it was cemented into my being (the fact that I liked him). We were talking about words and I told him my new favorite word that I had just figured out existed, psithurism. He shard his with me, sonder. He pulled a youtube video up explaining, in black and white, what sonder is. It’s beautiful. The fact that that it is his favorite word is beautiful. There was something special in that moment and it hit me. I just can’t. I can’t believe I was waiting my whole entire life for that moment. And now it is today and I haven’t done anything about it. About him and me. And I hate that. I hate that I’m not doing anything about it. I want to hear him talk all hours of the day and give him a hug just because I can. I want to curl up next to him on a couch and listen to him tell me how his day was. I want my hand to be the hand he wants to hold when his own has no where to rest. I want the chance to look into those blue eyes every day of my life. I want to know all of his favorite things.

Sermonia (n), that’s the word, at least that’s what the feeling would sound like if I made it a one. Maybe someday I’ll admit to him that it is in fact my most favorite word. Psithurism, is great and all, but it fails in comparison to that feeling you get when you know you’ve met someone special.