I kept the book you gave me,
the one you never finished.
The corners are still creased
where you stopped -
a moment frozen in paper.

I tried to read past it once,
but the words were ghosts
of a story I didn’t know
how to end.

So it sits on my shelf,
not quite forgotten,
not quite forgiven,
like the memory of you.

My dad spent most of his life
singing songs wishing to be a rockstar.
“Can’t get no satisfaction” and “Mack the knife”
a handful of applause from drunks in a dark bar.

The sights I hated to see
now the person I don’t wish to be,
my potential could be monumental
if I could just turn dreams to reality.
The days of a wasted youth
ignoring a tragic truth,
I could make history by solving a mystery
if I could only find the proof.

My mom’s favourite song was “Fast Car”
but at the funeral, I picked Fleetwood’s “Landslide.”
There was no point in highlighting an old scar,
some times and places, there’s just things you should hide.

The sights I hated to see
can’t be wiped from my memory,
and what I fear the most is that there’s no ghost
that has been haunting me.
Now I get the appeal of the drink
from the cabinet or underneath the sink,
without warning, about ten in the morning
it was worse than you could ever hope or think.

My feet pushed against the white floor board
and my back leaned up against the bed.
Thinking about how the surface was scored,
the colours mix; white, orange blue and red.
In the basement with my precious; my hoard,
with the knowledge no one would know if I were dead.
Suddenly it was a thought that I explored
that maybe I enjoyed that course instead.
And to the heights I once soared,
please tell me the best days are still ahead.

I wandered long through noctis viae — roads of night,
Where shattered stars fall, pale with fright.
The moon, a fractum speculum, weeps in vain,
Reflecting back my silent pain.

Yet ex nihilo, from void you came,
A whisper soft — a spark, a flame.
Your eyes, ignis aeterni, burned through rain,
And lit the corners of my bane.

You broke the walls of stone and thorn,
In your embrace, my soul reborn.
A caro et anima — flesh and soul aligned,
A prayer from lips the gods designed.

Where shadows bloom, you plant your name,
A rose that blossoms in my flame.
And though the winds of fate may sever,
Amor vincit omnia — love conquers ever.

Still, as dawn creeps on trembling feet,
I fear this dream may taste defeat...
But if we fade like morning's mist,
Eternity lives in one last kiss.

Treading down a bleeding path, painting a picture with liquor from my veins.

I rest my head upon the branch of a tree, wilting away as the wind tears apart her oak core.  

I hear your voice in the drops of rain, drenching my shirt as your essence is washed away.

The moon, illuminating a shadow of what once was, pleading the voices of the night to free me from this everlasting nightmare.

Staring at an empty puddle, I see your face in my reflection.

The branches of the tree, grazing my neck, I feel the warmth of your lips touch my skin.

Your scent, lingering through my tears, framing my face the way your hands once did.

Holding you in my arms, squeezing you tightly and not letting go, I see the petals of roses, float down to my feet.  

Opening my eyes to see my arms bleeding.

Your beauty and warmth, piercing my skin with your hard-edged thorns.

Swimming in a puddle of rose-coloured yearning.

I lay under the mourning branch, deserted and void, the salt from my tears burning away at my skin.

I close my eyes and lay my hand out, letting the frost of the night, numb over my body.

Bleeding out, hoping one day you return to hold my frozen hand, pleading your warmth brings me back.