Specs of afternoon sunlight
touched the thoughts of a last wish.
A dancing beauty hoping to kiss
the morning star before it fades
to dusk.

Her words were sweeter
than any kiss.

She described happiness as
the point of illusion, a subconscious
desire for reasons to live.

The sunset against
the foggy sky.

Darkness from an unexpected storm
left her grieving the loss of
the sun.

Hearing his distant voice;
the fading melody serenading
her tired spirit.

She longed for a mature relationship
falling for him because he met her
needs; his departure leaving
imaginations to fulfill
her vacated desires.

A light breeze rustles
the stars; falling upon
the night.

Death gave the caterpillar her wings
to greet happiness in the clouds.

A cup of hot tea
An evening with a good book
Call me tomorrow

Moonlight,
touching the lingering night;
cool exhales on the glass,
catching the thoughts of
an insomniac.

Memories,
deeply rooted within the season;
a spirit grieves in turmoil,
the darkness weeps within
the chaos.

Silence disturbed me;
calamity throughout the night.
Overwhelmed by absence,
I kept waiting, hoping it
would return.

Time tormented me; my eyes
played peek-a-boo with
the clock. My perceptions
played tiddlywinks with
my sanity.

One day, I will forget
the touch of dreams;
I miss it greatly. The way
my body feels when we
are connected.

We are strangers connected by the comfort of familiarity.  It’s peculiar how the inadvertent takes us to a complete circle.  That feeling of connection; that longing for a love we are not supposed to have.

Her face is nothing more than the image of a desired reflection; those eyes speaking the truth behind her smile.  Light and shadows confound the lines of time; I want to see her but reality denies my wish.  All we will ever have are conversations and the chisel of poetry to sculpt our imaginations.

Tonight, he arrives hoping to find
Her waiting; the rooms are empty,
The windows covered.

For so long, he left the lights on
Believing she would return to take up
Residence in this place now abandoned.

Every night he recalled those moments;
The eve of a new season bringing silence.
Feelings of solace lost in the fading twilight.

For so long, he avoided the darkness
Hoping her absence was a momentary lapse
In time; realizing that his faith is misplaced.

Tonight, he concedes; removing the images
From the walls, placing a kiss upon
The lips of a dream.

Thinking back towards my childhood, remembering those tiny moments that broke my spirit. Conformity, the pressures of this square peg to fit into those round holes; barriers that put my agility in stasis forcing my mind to endure constant pummeling from both friends and foes. I was too afraid to stand up and embrace confrontation; those “reindeer games” that I didn't know how to play.

I believe, everything happens for a reason, even when the reason is ignorant. The days become years, rolling with the changing seasons yet the moments mimic one another. Surely there are lessons to learn within the complexity of triviality, the child becoming the adult still tethered to burden of *******.

There’s this feeling of déjà vu again; the journey is filled with course corrections, navigation through expectations and recommendations to appease values not my own. The plaguing sense of accommodation to avoid confrontation becomes the eulogy at my funeral procession.  Maybe it’s time to stop moving and let that thing I am most fearful of pull me into the center of chaos; to sit in the belly of the whale and let it all go.