Bedpost gold.
Common contours.
Bare blankets unfold.
Unraveled slack.
Treasured hazel tundras gazing back.

Hollow silver.
Lavender lace.
Stitched up smile.
A diamond ace.
Balanced on a crystal brim.
Faded toil.
A violent grace.

You are my corrupted dream.
An intended perverted fairytale.

The break rolls in.  
Your fingertips white with selfish memories.
Addicted, with fabricated smiles after dark.
Time pours faster.
The embers cling to balconies and bedposts.
Stepping gently from another unwelcomed sunrise.
We sink into an inevitable blindness.

You ****** into abandon.
Awaiting a slow bitter collapse.
Full speed cold front.
No stopping the fever.
Four walls, two ways to burn them down.
One pitiful habit to sober the spell.

Melodic moments raise their weary hands
And rock the city comfortably.

I don't know what to do with me
I don't know who I am
It seems that I have lost the me
The one who gave a ****
Sometimes I feel so hollow
like an emply mason jar
I try to be normal
But, it only goes so far
I wish I knew happiness
the kind that always last
it seem the only joy I know
come from a useless past
I want the pain to go away
I want to just breath in
Take the life I once enjoyed
even if I have to blow it out again
I wish I could find my soul
Where could it have gone
I need it back so I can find my missing heart song
I need that glow to light my way
and lead me through the night
Put it in my mason jar and ***** that lid on tight

when will I breathe
again?
when will I inhale your scent
lie in your arms
make love to your words
with each action verb
be submerged in your verse
for better or worse
from day till night
and A to Z
when
will
I
breathe...
again?

If wild my breast and sore my pride,
  I bask in dreams of suicide;
If cool my heart and high my head,
  I think, "How lucky are the dead!"

Secrets, you said, would hold us two apart;
You'd have me know of you your least transgression,
And so the intimate places of your heart,
Kneeling, you bared to me, as in confession.
Softly you told of loves that went before--
Of clinging arms, of kisses gladly given;
Luxuriously clean of heart once more,
You rose up, then, and stood before me, shriven.

When this, my day of happiness, is through,
And love, that bloomed so fair, turns brown and brittle,
There is a thing that I shall ask of you--
I, who have given so much, and asked so little.
Some day, when there's another in my stead,
Again you'll feel the need of absolution,
And you will go to her, and bow your head,
And offer her your past, as contribution.

When with your list of loves you overcome her,
For Heaven's sake, keep this one secret from her!

Once, when I was young and true,
  Someone left me sad--
Broke my brittle heart in two;
  And that is very bad.

Love is for unlucky folk,
  Love is but a curse.
Once there was a heart I broke;
  And that, I think, is worse.

There's little in taking or giving,
  There's little in water or wine;
This living, this living, this living
  Was never a project of mine.
Oh, hard is the struggle, and sparse is
  The gain of the one at the top,
For art is a form of catharsis,
  And love is a permanent flop,
And work is the province of cattle,
  And rest's for a clam in a shell,
So I'm thinking of throwing the battle--
  Would you kindly direct me to hell?

Lights off,
laying in my bed.
Can't fall asleep or
am I choosing not to?
Change, maybe that is
what I am looking for.
Perhaps a different avenue.
Go away for a while,
or go away forever.
Move on or work
with what I have.
Try harder, or maybe
just give up.
Dance the night away,
or stay sitting all night.
Push myself to the limit,
or hold myself back.
Dream those endless dreams,
or stay wide-awake.
Ahh, who knows,
where either will take me
but maybe,
maybe you just got me
over-thinking....