Rippling laughter

floats in my ears,

your silly smile and happy eyes

dancing in my minds eye,

echoed from my throat like bells

across a courtyard.

You lean in and kiss my lips mid-laugh,

closing them with passion and tempting ideas,

lacing your fingers in mine

as I try to wind them through your hair.

You whisper,

I love you;

your work-worn hands squeezing mine-

once,

twice

needing the tender reply from my delicate fingers

to show you that I love you too,

the words that mean the most to us

captured in a split second

of simple grazing touch.

You hold me close,

as I look into the deep fathoms

of the eyes that stoke my soul's fire,

the passionate spheres that first entranced me.

The world travels by,

time slowed to a crawl-

eyelashes blinking,

hearts racing,

hands holding-

It's just you and I here now,

all the other souls around us

mean nothing for this moment;

Hold me close,

and feel the promise

beating out in waves from my chest-

Hold me,

and feel my heart beat for you,

my love.

Shadows dance in your eyes

dark and sorrowful

as they draw me in slowly-

down,

down-

into their dusk filled portents.

down

past the shed tears

and the broken hearts

through the terrible trials

you've faced all alone

and wrong turns

on well worn paths-

down;

to the small child within

hiding in the comfortable bedsheets

staring at me with fragility,

clutching its lingering dreams to her chest

like a comforting teddy bear,

lost long ago.

Once i knew this face,

these eyes;

every morning  i rubbed the sleep from them

and stared them down smilingly in the mirror.

Now they are a stranger's;

dark, hollow-

hopeless.

When did they change,

and become part of someone I could not recognize?

When did the hopeful child I felt to be

stop dreaming

and give up on her world around her?

How do i find myself now,

in the these mirror-eyes?

Music

Like no other

alights upon my ears,

soft,

dainty,

and musical;

trumpeted like heralding angels

whispered like cherubims,

announcing your pleasure-

and mine-

at hearing you so happy;

trickling down

like deep, clear spring waters

bubbled up from underground reserves,

filtering through the muck and mud

of everyday life-

until its sinks beneath the loamy thoughts

of the surface I present.

I am unable to ignore this wonderful presence,

nor cover myself back up,

for it has laid bare my most hopeful intentions.

Ah,

what joy

like starlight

reflected on the still lake waters,

as the moon glimmers gently on the oars

and bow of the small boat on the surface,

with the entire heavens

as our companions,

you will put them all to shame;

I am envious of your carefree smile

and smooth white neck,

that glistens in the pale moonlight-

thrown back in beautiful abandon,

as rapturous as the ethereal and beautiful soul that sits beside me.

Ah,

your lips part in ecstatic joy,

making this moonlit scene more complete than before,

entrancing me and drawing my gaze

to the eyes that stop my heart

for moments at a time,

filling my soul with profound contentment;

I thought your smile was gorgeous,

and your eyes and lips exquisite-

but nothing,

not even the stars tonight,

could compare to your laughter.

This urge consumes me-

made necessary by circumstance

and misfortune,

made real by the real fear that follows me

down all of the streets,

around the corners I hide behind.

It is not a thing I desire,

not a thing I want to experience,

or face in a dark alley-way;

yet it is always there,

the travelers road-

waiting, listening

for signs of weakness.

It is the touch of madness in my mind,

the dark pits beneath my sleepless eyes-

the deep loathed wisdom in my bleeding heart

that speaks to me in the depths of night,

waking me from my already tainted sleep.

What it says are things I already know of-

no surprises or lies are contained inside its insidious whispering.

Sometimes,

I fall ill and devoid of courage,

and the travelers road appears,

with seemingly all the answers,

the only option.

Sometimes,

I resist,

straining against my own scared irrationality,

succeeding-

but just barely.

This is not the way I would have picked to go,

nor the scenery that I wished to see;

a tornado would have made a prettier mess

than the life I have laid to waste.

In the end,

there is no escaping my fate,

no fixing the past;

but perhaps I can linger longer this time,

and erase this traveler's mark.

You see me-
struggling beneath these crushing thoughts,
wriggling out from underneath the weight
of confusion
and regret.
You can practically hear
the sounds of my heart breaking;
splintering into tiny pieces,
shredding into strips of damaged trust
and broken beams of innocence-
but you can't do a thing.
You know that you can never repair the damage
or ever make things right;
You know you suppress your guilt
and hide it among sweet roses,
that you let grow in hopes to make amends.
So you must sit back,
and watch,
as the people around you crumble
like buildings,
hollowed out,
and ready to fall at your feet-
scheduled to be demolished.
I am waiting for the day
when your pride will evaporate,
and your strength will dwindle-
and your eyes will reflect a deep sadness
that no well or lake could dare imitate-
maybe then you will say you are sorry;
maybe then I will be whole again.
Til then,
I will struggle as you watch-
laboring to bring my heart to understanding,
and my mind to compassion,
waking up in the middle of the night
screaming-
lost in these floundering dreams.