"That seems so very far away," you said.
And it is; we have both time and distance pushing us apart.
But they say that time is a river,
and all rivers must find a larger body of water to pour into,
like an ocean,
the one that stands between us, the stagnant blood
inside our bodies.
You said you will hibernate until I wake you, or even better,
until I lie next to you and your eyes open to the rise and fall of my chest.

Let us sleep away these long months,
let us close ourselves to autumn, so it will seem as though we had been together
the whole time, and are finding one another in those foggy morning hazes,
while the rain falls softly against the glass of your windows,
and the house is silent with the sleep of others.

We will pull on our wool sweaters and scarves and
walk along the river, hand in hand, laughing
at the pain we create when we are apart.

People speak to me about the "light at the end of the tunnel."
Some seek to reassure me, others confess their blindness.
I try to believe that the light moves as day and night do-
At times there is only darkness, yet we are assured that the sun will rise each morning.
Centuries have proven such.  Our lives are too small to perceive each blindness as passing.
Still, we put faith in time, in seasons, in dawn, in dusk.  We are the same.
Cyclical beings in a cyclical world with cyclical thoughts.
Know that your darkness is but a night without stars.
And that the sun must rise, a pale light that builds into a separate and most welcome blindness.

I once met a captain, three yards from the sea
In a tavern where only true sailors should be
This captain questioned if I was a We
"No," I replied, "I am both lonely and free."
He, too, could relate to a life in this way
His comfort came from the boat's gentle sway
And time held nothing but day after day
Yet my smile, he said, kept his ship at bay.
The captain, filled with both warmth and fear
Watched our faces in the tavern's mirror
Sadly, and tenderly, he declared it was clear
I was the shipwreck into which he would steer.

Know your bones

What they crave
 and ache for

What they will not break for

Know your bones

They are your home

Wherever you find yourself

Know your bones

Not the shell of another’s

Even if it seems a relief

You are then a thief

Who forgot your bones

While they still were your own.

I carry you like a badge of dishonor.
You rest on the left side of my chest, fastened to my skin, causing me to bleed. My scarlet letter of wrong. I am avoided by the parenthetical deeds of day. I am oppressed by the dense solitude of night. A crowd is nothing more than an overgrown forest. Silence. There is only silence. Once there was laughter and arms and warmth to call home, though now I cannot keep my eyes high enough to search for a wandering smile. I grew a new pair of bones in your absence. They are brittle. They need to strengthen. They keep breaking. I tried hope to calcify them, I tried love to mend them, I tried tears to set them. 
I am still crippled. 
Each time I stand, trembling, the sky shakes and the earth moves and I fall, again and again and again until I am looking up from the mud in the ground. I cannot open my mouth to question or cry out. I endure. I lie until I am entwined with the path itself, until feet cannot distinguish between dirt and flesh. I watch you fly. I try to accept the ache of emptiness. 
I cannot.

my ghost, my ghost
my darling ghost
tonight, like most
leaves only sorrow in the sepulchral depths
of these quiet sheets
my heart, my heart
my foolish heart
will stop, then start
no matter how much I despise the sound
of those steady beats
my one, my one
my only one
like winter's sun
slides deeper behind the clouds above
-i must release
my hope, my hope
my endless hope
cannot fade, though forced away
for your peace
my ache, my ache
my lovely ache
i cling to with a child's fearful grip
unable to let go
my ghost of hope, my aching heart
my only one
you have shown me who i must become
and for you it will be so.

those **** eyes
those **** lips
cry black lies
slash like whips

whiskey and a cigarette
that's how i forget

those **** eyes
those **** lips
your sweet sighs
and fingertips