the eternal transience,
ended only by her little voice.

the sense of belonging,
solidified only by her smile.

my aching heart,
sent racing by her fleeting glance.

this very room,
lit up by her utter radiance.

as her lips sent hushed whispers dancing towards my ears,
i smiled slightly, knowing that I hadn't anything to say.

no way of telling her that she need not fear,
that my arms could protect and shelter.

no way to explain my master plan,
had I really ever had one.

no way of telling her,
what she meant,
for me.

sometimes, i wish these words could hold you.
i wish they could wrap their consonents arround your shoulders,
and i wish their vowels could whisper secrets in your ear.

i wish that these words could make 700 miles seem like right next door.

i wish that these words could derail trains,
sink ships and clip the wings of even the mightiest birds.

what if, these words could stop you in your tracks,
send a chill down your spine,
and hum you the simplest lulaby.

what if these words could send your heart racing,
make your eyes well with tears,
and help your spirit soar.

i'll never forget her.

she talked to me in an unknown language,
spoken through fingertips, smiles and long gazes.

her hair was tangled and unwashed,
her complexion blotchy and unrefined,
but she was beautiful.

knowing the world was crashing down around us,
we just held one another, smiling slightly,
and it was blissful oblivion.

strands of hair brushed lightly against her rosy cheek,
as if wishing to wipe away her tears.

her eyes were sad, and her hands shook.

she had lost the spring in her step,
the glimmer in her eye,
and the heat in her fingers.

i struggled to find words that could soothe,
so i could caress her soul and not just her body,
but it seems that power is reserved for my pen.

snowflakes drifted lazily from the dark sky,
like millions of little people,
who had jumped, before they saw how far down,
it really was.

she hiccoughed once,
twice,
three times before getting up.

she stumbled towards the kitchen,
a lit cigarette dangling from her mouth haphazardly.

she poured herself another glass of her choice poison,
and gulped.
and gulped.
and gulped.

more tears came as she slid to the floor,
the glass slipping from her hand and shattering across the tiles.

she spoke softly,
her voice quivering in the silence of the night.
"**** me."

that laugh. what i wouldn't give to bottle it,
so that when i am alone,
i can unstopper her happiness.

i sat there mystified,
my eyes lost in hers.

i searched fruitlessly for something witty to say,
trying to coax out a smile, a laugh.

as her quiet discontentment radiated outward,
i yearned to pick the right words,
some way to calm the storm brewing.

my thoughts flickered to earlier that day:
her eyes, deep, sparkling jewels.

her hair framing every stunning feature of her face.

her laugh, a luxurious liqueur,
and i longed to drink and drink and drink.

all i wished to do, was to bring her to that place again,
to bring her joy; to make her happy.

from beneath the steadiness of her convictions,
a minute quiver of doubt
gave rise to seismic realization.

a rather austere ordeal,
like the waning of a summer's moon,
from which springs fall.

sitting in the bulwark she'd built for herself,
she feels satisfaction as she absorbs the fumes,
her personal ritual complete.

the floor grew distant, and the walls began to melt.
a cascade of sparks danced across her neurons,
and chemicals saturated her brain.

her soul expanded; her mind widened.
her breathing became ragged, and her heart frantic.
moments passed by as hours.

thoughts blurred through her mind.
streams of consciousness streaked past.
the brainstorm flooded the streets.

her train of thought sped along,
and as suddenly as the insight came,
it dissipated into polychromatic smoke.

the numbness slowly drained from her fingers.
her thoughts became sluggish in comparison,
as the euphoric edge evanesced.

tears rose in her eyes as waves of nausea swept over her,
and pain erupted in her head, within which,
the sound of her uneven breathing reverberated endlessly.

after the agony had passed,
she returned to the outside world,
drowsy and disoriented.

the jaundiced stares of her former peers pierced her.
each word that she spoke, disregarded,
and every action judged.

she felt the weight of their censure,
but the heavier encumbrance was her basic need,
to fill each breath with her death sentence.