Cigarette smoke is
dancing in my vacant void
singing empty space.

I gasped out loud laughing, correcting you
But I just realized, you don't see it that way
Maybe you never saw it that way to begin with

What happens to deleted poems?
Do they go to the same place as aborted children?
Somewhere between heaven and hell.
A purgatory perpetuated by the misery of doubting one's self.
Maybe they condense into clouds like vapor into rain,
only to eventually fall back down upon our heads again.
In the pained expression you wear on your face,
I can read nearly a thousand words unsaid.

You knew who I was with every step that I ran to you

My tears like rain,
Shedding and trickling rage,
Pain intemperate,
Severity flaming within,
You imprudent and insane.