I often find myself
stuck in the what ifs and the should'ves
because for the longest time
those moments were better than reality
I would miss the days where you and I
would spend hours with each other
doing God knows what
and I didn't care if those moments
were no longer mine.

However,
my life was consumed by these old haunts
and I was drowning in hopes of getting them back
and if I hadn't spoken to you one last time
or wrote that first poem about you
after years of silence
maybe I could've grown out of this phase.
I no longer can live in the past
because there's a reason it left me a long time ago.

I knew that if I
let the blood run dry
from the slit you left
on my wrist
I'd be free.

Paint a picture of me
near the riverside
beneath a willow
I'll wear that yellow dress
you liked so much
and I'll rest my cheek upon my hand
and brush the hair from my eyes
and stare through the canvas on which you paint
and then I'll whisper to myself that
after this, all you have left to look at
is this picture.

I shall say goodbye for at least a little while for I have lost purpose in this site. I no longer look forward to mail in my inbox or posting my deepest feelings for the public to read. If ever I do get these joys back I shall return to Hello Poetry with open arms. But until then I say adieu.

Two poets fell in love
with words that flowed
from the same fingertips
that grazed each other’s faces
and emotions that fell on paper
just as they found their way
into their hearts.

And this went on for quite some time
as their hearts bled like the ink from a pen
until there was nothing left but
blackened tears that lined the parchment.

I've lost the words to
say how I feel to someone
who no longer listens.

My wrists lay frail and bound
on the tops of my thighs
bruised, fragile
all because I couldn't learn
to say the words to
break the chains that bind me
so tightly to the lies that
weigh me down with
every word that leaves
your mouth.