A phrase once given me,
By a friend of poetry,
When I asked ....if he too,
Talked in his head just like I do.
He made me feel much better because,
He replied, "Yeah. Sure. Everyone does."
And so I deemed myself not so insane.
For the "internal dialogue" spoke in my brain.

I imagine I walk a lonely street at night.
In the heart of a ancient city.
With close little houses and candles burning.
I believe that someone watches me from a tiny little window
Drapes pulled back.
Wondering who I am, what I'm doing out here, where I am going in the snow.
Ah but alas it's just a coat rack.
No one really cares.
I haven't been noticed at all.
And if they had..
Well they would only be jealous that I was out and they were in.

There's a hole within my heart,
Growing deeper every day.
And widening by the second,
Since you went away.

And there's no replacement,
No way to fill the space,
I fear my heart will disappear,
If I can't see your face.

I had you right here with me,
For so many, many, years,
Without you I 'm completely lost,
Too numb for even tears.

And I think about you always,
With every single breath.
This loss is more than painful,
And final..just like death.

And I'm scared that I won't make it.
That I'll give up the fight.
That with the guilt of all the wrongs,
I'll never be quite right.

I am praying every single day,
For God to get me through,
To lay his grace upon me,
And take good care of you.

And to help me just have faith,
So the hurt will go away.
Because I am so afraid that I,
Won't last another day.

Of what I feel no longer,
Of what I perceive no more,
Some may call me the richer,
I think me rather poor.
My knees no longer tremble,
My heart no more aloft,
And I discern no difference,
Between the hard and soft.
I sense not the mourning,
My heart knows that it should,
Nor can I measure by degrees,
Of equal; bad and good.
And the echo would be hollow,
Were you to beat upon my chest,
All that's found here at this inn,
Is an empty, vacant, rest.
Which cost me not a single thing,
Spare a dream upon my waking,
Meanwhile 'til soul from slumber stirs,
My heart will not be breaking.

It is here where full folly and neglect,
born of a passionate quest for gain,
unraveled itself with mistied knots,
and toiling so, so did toil in vain.
Beginning with void, proceeded with care,
til time unleashed his urgency bold,
and ******'s self - imposed descent,
ended with a void that was tenfold.
And hence a masked soul now does wander alone,
no longer searching the fairies' famed path,
nor leaping up for what some still call joy,
nor bothered by what some still call wrath.
Expectant anon of nothing,
but the passage of another day,
even minded and completely numb,
with nothing that it must do or say.
'Cept spare for it's own self inspection,
and temperance of it's own dry eye,
resolution built deep in a stone foundation,
with a permit,(perhaps), for only a sigh.....
when the stars have been stolen by the moon,
and departed altogether; the dimmest of nights,
for this is when memory comes to visit,
and the stoic and romantic fight their fights.
Until the sun grants the firmest victory,
to the mind, over heart; ...control,
and then rising without the need of courage,
To place the mask back on it's soul.

We gazed upon a butterfly,
as it rested on a tree,
And as I sat and looked at it,
a thought occurred to me.

Many words could be used,
To describe that butterfly.
But first, I'll choose to use the ones,
That are strictly clear to eye.

The diverted tail was of black,
The body, was likely an inch.
The wings were many shades of blue,
With a spot of purple, just a pinch.

White outlined all of the colors,
From where I sat, this I could see.
Theres my objective description,
Now I'll describe it differently.

The fragile little butterfly,
With violent, majestic hues,
Gave off a translucent shimmer,
That changed with changing views.

It paused ever so sweetly,
To bless me with it's grace,
And my heart swelled within,
While I sat here in this place.

The colors were made deeper,
By the brilliance of the sun.
There's my subjective description,
But one more thought before I'm done.

It really makes no difference at all,
The words we use or choose to imply,
Because in the end if you think about it.
It's still the same butterfly.

There are so many paths in front of me,
Choices that I must make,
And I have no idea where any path leads,
Or which one I should take.

I only know that each one will take me,
To different places I've not been.
And that I won't be able to turn around,
To start from right here again.

And I'm not sure if it's better to choose,
Quickly.... or to contemplate,
For as soon as I go the wrong direction,
It will already be too late!

The path in the middle is well beaten,
Many must have tread before,
But taking the middle road all the time,
Sounds like nothing but a bore.

The path on the left is well hidden,
And it is not very clear.
It appears way too dangerous for me,
And I am so full of fear.

The road to the right looks exciting,
And it holds a special allure,
That is the way I really want to go,
But I'm still a little unsure!

In all of her absence you held me,
With arms that were so strong,
I believed you had forgotten her,
It'd been so very long,
But it only took one phone call,
To prove that I was wrong.
With eagerness did you reply,
And her thrill returned again,
And just as quickly I disappeared,
As if we'd never been.
To turn this broken soul away,
From a fight I'll never win.

Could you be the missing piece,

Of the puzzle that is me.

My life I've spent just fumbling,

And wandering aimlessly.

I gave up searching long ago,

For what they call "the one."

No one ever seemed to get me,

And I always chose to run.

But you, I find, are just like me,

In your spirit and your soul.

The very moment that I met you,

Your presence made me whole.

Where did I lose it?
Somewhere between "Hello" and "I love you!"
Will I ever find it?
Because for a time I really thought it was true.

Did I pull too hard?
I have a tendency to hold things way too tight.
Did I push it away?
When things seem right, I retreat out of fright.

Does it really matter?
For there is absolutely nowhere to go from here.
So what do I do now?
The only thing I can do is say, "Goodbye, my dear."

Will the nighttime greet me,
With more dreams of you?
Will my heart remind me of,
Our days that were so few?
Will my tears offer any solace,
Or just cause more to flow?
Will I ever find the reason,
Or accept I can not know?
Will time fade the memories,
Fond ones that we shared?
Will my soul ever get over,
The fact you never cared?

If the wind blew me to your door,
Would you open it fast or slow?
Would my heart swell with a joy,
Of a love that I think I know?
Would it be like coming home again,
Would you invite me to stay,
To sit and share and pass the hours,
Until we've lost the day.
Would your eyes mirror everything,
That mine are sure to show,
If the wind blew me to your door,
Would you open it fast or slow?

I still feel..... you.
You are still here.
Absence, even prolonged, doesn't remove you.
You have become visceral.
Attached to the inner parts of me.
The vital parts of me.
I still see..... you.
In my peripheral.
Throughout different moments of the day.
When I see something I also want you to see.
And on my inward eye every time I shut my eyes.
You are my vision.
I still hear..... you.
I hear that voice.
When I read, your voice narrates all the words.
I can even hear you smile.
It's as clear as if you were next to me.
It whispers everything I need to hear.
I still dream..... you.
We do it together.
Sharing a narrow path in a wide world.
Believing destiny and faith will guide us right.
To our imagined paradise.
Beneath a tree.
Where our pens, passion, and souls converge.
Where everything will be made clear.

   Spirit.
   Truth.
              Inspiration.
Life.
  Love.