A speck
It festers

Silently
Growing

Leeching
Unnoticeably

Raspy voiced  
Less than whispered

Barely noticed
A pesky itch

Ignore
A twitch

Ignore
It won't exist

Ignore
Fade away

Please
The edge is turning grey

The plague is back
Black

And here to stay

In truth
It never really went away

I wish I could just
Evaporate.
Slowly fade and fade
Until I was no more.

I am the wasteland.
My chest,
A cavity shoveled empty,
Filled with infinite space,
Devoid of blood and bone,
Is host to cosmos and ghosts.

And where I once had heart,
Black holes,
Punched out and multiplied,
Empty and expanding,
Aching under the weight of eternity,
Riddle the cavity where my soul once lived.

And shackled to the weight of fate, I watch as:
Shovelers and boxers,
 Blind and unaware,
 Consciously choosing not to care,
 Speaking iron words of weaponry,
Turn my body into a canyon.

And as this scene is comes to a close.
My death,
Foreshadowed early on,
Also barren and filled with despair,
Beckoning and luring,
Is clearly laid out on a horizon.

And though it's true I have been hollowed out,
The void,
Absent hope,
Blank and staring over the human race,
With only wisps of thought to run my head,
*Is the comfort I've learned to be.

There is a great distance
A vastly endless space
A divide that echoes longing
Separating me from you

And within this great distance
Awareness is born
These two entities are destined to be
Their bond infallible

Where is the great distance
Of which I was painfully aware
Now it seems obsolete
We are intangibly connected

There is no great distance
Separating me from you

Storm

Clouds arrive like villains in smiles,
Their threat proudly displayed upon their menacing faces.
The winds are rolling, freshly born.
Waves get restless.
They know a violent cascade is looming.
The impending chaos is tangible.
The cosmos hold their breath.
Time stands still.
Fear,
Both inciting it
And cowering in it,
Is dominant here.
Lightning flashes a glimpse of what's to come.
Thunder speaks the words we instinctively know.
Calm resonates the precipice of disaster.
A vibration tethered for too long,
Shakes a warning to run.
Hesitation.
It's too late.
The eye is focused.
I am the storm.
I am here.

You're the winter, that cools my endless summer.
You're the frost that chills my burning embers.
You're my best friend
My soul's mate
My lover.

You're the stillness that calms my restless soul.
You're the anchor that stops my wandering heart.
You're my best friend,
My soul's mate,
My lover.

You're the moon that lights my starless night.  
You're the space I need to fly.
You're my best friend,
My soul's mate,
My lover.

You're the cosmic wonder for whom I fell.
You're forever, and ever as well.
You're my best friend,
My soul's mate,
My lover.

We collided like a train rushing in from behind,
Your memory and I.
My breath stuck in my throat, unexpectedly.
Tears stinging my eyes, staining my cheeks, involuntarily.
Has your ghost been lingering, shadowed,
Waiting to spring upon me like a serpent in the grass?
Don't tempt me with that shattered past.
I'd gladly place the shards of history's heart back into your hands.
Blatantly disregarding every reserve my mind fires,
Happily risking it all just to taste our youth.
Begone with you phantom! If that's what you are.
Stay only if your monstrosity lingers well into our future.

I exist in a space somewhere between complacency and sheer panic,
With the very tangible happiness just beyond my reach.
And as my fingers yearn, outstretched and writhing, my mind wonders why bother, let go.
The fact is:
Happiness, though it may be real, was never meant for me.

Sometimes I wander
Up that shadowed path
That is the past
And I let my self wonder
Rather than wander
What would have happened
If I'd strayed left instead of right
At that forbidden fork
And as I gaze into the haze
That is left of best
I see you standing at the end
The sad and silvery ghost of empty promises.
But empty? No.
Just avoided and ignored
They linger in what could have been
Nipping at my heels, reminding me of what sort of person I am
I am not hurt
I am the hurt
And with that I turn from wonder
And refuse to wander

There is no "us" anymore.
There is only you.
I am but a ghostly soul trapped in a functioning cage.
But you!
You have so much potential to fulfill!
If you could see you, the way I do...
Oh well then, we would have to run to keep up.
Nothing would stop you.
Except "us".

That's why, loves, I must make my adieu.
I'm sparing you from me.
And that's the only gift I have worth giving.
Call it a parting-gift,
Though it's nothing at all compared to what you deserve.
I'm sorry for suffering you with "us".

Forgive me, my moons.
I wanted to be amongst your stars.
But I am just a comet,
My fate burns out much faster than yours.
And soon there won't even be a memory
Of  the "us" that was so very unjust.

She's a thousand miles from where she needs to be,
With a hundred and seven things to do.
And the only things she manages are
"Wince, breath, hold it in, and turn blue."
Exhaling,
She turns to see a path carved of her own destruction

In her wake.

Unaware of how she got here, and now:
Her heart is torn in two.
You think it's wether it's him or wether it's you.
But it's wether it's to sleep forever or stay 'til forever gives up on her.
Involuntarily,
She stumbles on the trail of bodies

In her wake.

It's months or maybe millennia later,
Time has no compassion here.
Her immortal face is as unwavering as stone.
But the scars she's counted have undoubtably grown.
Her bones hide secrets the whole world knows.
And though she'll burn from the heat of the stones they throw.
Everything is still drowning amongst waves

In her wake.

But she knows how to make time and all of everything stand still.
She can ease the world of her venomous touch.
With a single bolt of lead and palm full of small white relief,
At last,
All of us can be put out of her misery.
Only the obligatory tears will fall
When the guest books from her history spill from the celebratory halls

At  *her wake.