she stood 'neath the stars in the underbrush
dancing on the earth that was tossing and turning
as its pores breathed in unison with the beat of her heart
she heard him curse a shadow hovering above them
and serenade a star twinkling like a shy maiden
under the glare of a night that promised to reveal
the riches of her contours translucent in the warm glow
of dreams etched upon the heaving night sky
then she heard him tell an old ditty and sing an ancient melody
about smitten women and faithless marauding males
spawned by callous sires of unending tales of woe
and while she still wondered the world began to drone
endlessly like a drowsy sleeper on quivering rails

Night falls.
It’s time for a conversation with the moon.
Its reflection upon the silky pond.
Crescent smile beams for me.
Hoot, hoot goes the owl perched up high,
Letting me know that I’m not alone,
For shadows watch me, a curiosity.
Deep into the forest, to man unknown,
I speak with the moon.
Today I brought tears for it to drink,
As they drop onto the water, sending
Ripples of emotion.
I want the moon to tell me who I am.
It’s been here for eons, surely it must know.
Sometimes silence speaks the loudest,
The moon told me.
It said to listen, and listen closely.
At first all I heard was the forest’s
Harmony of critters and swaying trees.
But then I heard it.
I heard the cooing of my mother
As she cradled me in her arms.
I heard my father’s proud pat on my back.
I heard the adulation of my peers.
But then a dark cloud blocked the
Crescent smile before me.
I then heard the demon within me.
I heard it call me for who I was.
A luscious red apple with a rotten core.
A man with a filthy secret
A man afraid of what awaits him.
A man disgusted of what he’s become.
The dark cloud went on its way,
Crescent smile came to my rescue,
For I heard hope.
What does hope sound like?
Well, it’s the laughter of a friend
Who accepts you for who you are.
It’s the rooster’s crow signaling
A new tomorrow rising with the sun.
The crescent smile beamed once again.
I’ve found myself with the moon’s song.

In ninth grade, she shined a light in your heart
and you couldn't tell if it was real or not.
You spent life like that for two years.
She was there for all your panic attacks
and depressed nights, but then she broke you.
She took a sledgehammer named "Cheat"
and broke your heart into millions of pieces.
Your depression got worse
and you were breaking down every day,
but you still taped the heart up.
It was broken, but it still worked.
You spent your time planning ways
to avoid going by her classes,
you stopped going to the cafeteria
and ate lunch outside by your lonesome.
You were alone again, but you didn't feel it.
Because, the tape from your heart fell off one by one
every time you see her with her new boyfriend.
So one night when everything got too much,
you ran away into the woods behind your house.
You went back to the tree that you and her carved,
you drew a broken heart on a piece of paper
and signed it "**** Me" with your name.
You didn't want to make a note because
you weren't good at writing and
you didn't know how to explain it.
Then you jumped into the cold river,
watching the moons reflection until your final breath.
You were at peace.

When you looked at me that night,
I was happy...but hurt.
Happy because I saw something in your eyes that said you remembered us,
But sad because I didn't know if it was real.
The smile, the brown eyes, the blinking,
It all felt so warm.
I was happy to be in the position I was.
I didn't want the night to end.
But every happiness has cracks in them.
It's still not the same, nor will it ever be.
That is why it hurts.
The things I witnessed that day…
I don't know what to believe.
In my face with sweetness,
Then a cold shoulder.
Bipolar?
I don't want to assume a disease upon you,
But you're so confusing.
I blame it on the age,
Blame it on the lack of knowledge,
Blame it on situations of the past,
I blame it on you and me.
But I really don't know where it really came from.
I see you stare but I try to avoid temptation.
I'm sorry for kissing you on your forehead,
It wasn't my place or time.
You say you love me,
How's your love?
What is it to you?
Your definition, please.
Because I know its nowhere near my type of love I have for you.