a green screen,
the imaged voice
in my head.

all is
but
what it is.

and when
spring comes,
wounded trees
bear a blossom
in their own blood.

She offered me her heart
And I broke it.

I kept a piece
It once stung
Like a glass shard piercing flesh.

Yet now I feel it
Form and essence
Warm and tender
Longing to be touched
Longing to be held
Longing to be loved.

On one hand
I feel like the thief
The taker of what was never mine
to take.

On the other hand
I feel like the giver
Who offers his heart
to another.

Maybe they in turn
Will shatter my heart
Taking a piece
Which was never theirs to take.

When the time comes
I will rebuild my heart
The heart with a piece now missing
And I will only be able to repair
With the piece I stole before.

And there never was a girl I loved quite like you,
but I'm sitting here thinking that we are through,
because how I can get back to how things used to be,
when I looked at you, and you smiled me,
and there we were kissing on that New Years eve,
didn't think one day you'd up and leave,
still, if you looked at me and smiled and said
"I love you boy get it into your head"
then I'd open my arms and I'd open my heart
because you my dear are a work of art.

I'm glad that you're happy
but sad that I'm not
I just can't stop thinking
about how we fought

For months we've gone
without talking at all
but this time I'm afraid
it'll be years or longer.

At least we won't be somber
because together we're a storm
not a beautiful one either
we're a hurricane
destroying everything
that's in our path,
because we can

We're not good together.
But I can never remember
for whatever reason
I will always want you back.

asking the universe

Why

and went back to sleep

telling myself

Why not.