So many have loved me,
yet so many have stopped -

I was their dream,
until I was not.

She stares at me,
Her eyes seem to search mine.
Her hands stretch towards the division,
Towards that finely marked glass line.

She seems to whisper something,
Sayings too faint to hear.
Yet her lips move with such passion,
As though her utterances are very dear.

I take a step back & stare,
At the being before my eyes.
Torn robes & mangled hair,
And scarred hands to my surprise.

I try to draw close,
Yet I cannot seem to reach.
It's as though a barrier lies between us,
One that I cannot breach.

I looked with more intent,
But the less I saw instead.
Yet in her eyes I could discern,
Something that filled me with dread.

Then suddenly it hit me
From out of nowhere
And like an unraveled mystery
All became clear.

For in my curiosity
And my desire for close inspection
I had failed to see
I was staring at my own reflection

#BlueRain
2016

I'd meet him in a world of paper and light and broken things
The first thing I'd notice when he opens his mouth to speak
is that he has a silver tongue
The words that fall off of it
Black, like a night without stars
And his eyes hint of bitterly earned experience
With which he so easily sweeps past the picture I've painted in sunshine
That so easily seems to fool everyone else
He sees the abyss that looms in my heart
And concerned, calls out to me "Are you falling?"
And of course then, I fall, in love
I cling to him like he is my guide in this new shadow land
Like I expect us, together, to go seek out and fight
The dragons, demons, darkness of our minds
But I forget
That I don't know him
I don't know his cracks, his how he came to be
I have fallen for his words, for the precious silver of his tongue
And not the human boy, in all his realness and heat
You would think that after world upon world of broken paper and bent light
I would know by now
But you'd be wrong
Apparently, I am like a child with fire when it comes to the darkness
I am mesmerized

For some reason, I always think that I will be there the day the boy with the silver tongue remembers how to share his story and speak in sunshine and in being there, so save him and myself.

It was many and many a year ago,
  In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
  By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
  Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
  In this kingdom by the sea:
But we loved with a love that was more than love—
  I and my ANNABEL LEE;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
  Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
  In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
  My beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
So that her highborn kinsmen came
  And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
  In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
  Went envying her and me—
Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,
  In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
  Chilling and killing my ANNABEL LEE.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
  Of those who were older than we—
  Of many far wiser than we—
And neither the angels in heaven above,
  Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
  Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
  Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
And the stars never rise but I see the bright eyes
  Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride,
  In her sepulchre there by the sea—
  In her tomb by the side of the sea.

We are all born,
With just a limited amount.
We never know how much,
We have to give out.

We pray for it to hurry,
When we're young and still learning.
Then we pray for it to slow,
When we're older and now yearning.

We know that it's so very precious,
Because we sell it to the highest bidder.
But what about its true value?
That's what we rarely consider.

This gift we've been given,
It was meant to be shared.
For we cannot make more,
And what's left can't be spared.

It is a currency,
We all spend at the same rate.
But it is also purchased,
Unrefundable, with no discount or rebate.

But what really is most important,
Is to whom we give it for free.
That, my friend, is priceless,
So thank you for spending it with me.