When voice fails
My purple pen
Embraces
My keening soul

I want to softly whisper
incomplete poems
on your collar bones
that don't rhyme with anything
but your heavy breathing.

I want to bury my face
in the curves of your neck
because you smell like the winter clouds
and I've been gazing at the sky
since you left.

I am lost. But is being lost such a horrible concept?
I am lost. There is no path in sight, but I am not stranded.
I am lost. Legs weighted with burden grow stronger with every step.
I am lost. At this point in life it is nice to loose your sense of direction.
I am lost. But is being lost such a horrible concept?

you say  
love never
pried
so much

i say
love never
knew you
enough

I shouldn't have gone out walking, alone,
Tonight of all nights, I should have stayed away.
There is an abyss here, a perverted tear in the earth,
Trickling with the waters of Lethe,
Alive with the shades of the dead.
And here they are;
Dead things are coming, with their eyes like soured, milky rubies.
The smell of hunger is red,
And that is what I can smell,
Their starvation, their need,
They no longer breathe, or bleed,
But they can hunger, and they do,
And they smell me; something new,
A clean soul ripe for corruption.
Hungrily they come, tendons trailing, mouths agape,
Here is our vision; here is the shape
Of the dead world that will be.
They will take us, in our billions,
But tonight, they'll just take me.