last summer i fell in love
with someone i no longer recognize
you’ve changed so greatly since august
there’s even change in your hazel eyes
we were just too different to be together
the same as moon and sun
because although people wanted us to be two
i was just happier as one
i can hear your hurt in ever insult you speak
i can feel your hate burning through my skin
you can yell, and blame me, hurt, or shame me,
but in the end it’s your own problem within
you can claim that you don’t miss me all you want
and frankly i’m just waiting until you choke on your lies
because words can shout and scream about
but the truth is spoken softly in your hazel eyes.
but i’ve moved on, and it’s time you should too;
grow up.

I see your reflection on a rain speckled window pane
I hear your voice in vinyl records calling out my name
You muse my soul so colorfully with every painting I brush
But when I caress the texture of oil on canvas that's when I feel your touch.
I see your amber eyes melting, like sap on a maple tree
When they stare deeply into mine, a salted, stormy sea
When a flickering flame burns down a wick I swear I see your face
and when i'm kissed by my garden's petunias I feel your smooth embrace
I feel your soul in the coursing creek, on the cooled slabs of stone
And in the ice cold water running through that I've always longed to know
Although I know your skin, there's farther I will go
because when I stare into your amber eyes there's more that I don't know

and there you went again
curly black hair bouncing bountifully
as you walked out of my life once again

i think you like your tea sweet
a spoonful of milk and a douse of honey
stirred with a silver spoon
it scrapes the porcelain gently as you brew your sweet potion
your tea wouldn’t be scorching nor chilly, but like the warm summer rain that falls upon those who wait
the cup would radiate a warm touch
like the kiss i’ve imagined rests on your lips
it’s the type of tea you drink on an early November afternoon
when you set the galoshes down and put on warm woolen socks, and hop into a cedar scented sweater
i’m not usually a fan of tea
but your’s might change my mind
i think you like your tea sweet

from day one he held her fragile hand
tugged her along the cliff's edge
watched her through even the longest of days
or peered throughout the green garden's hedge
he tugged a bit harder the older she got
until her skin drooped like elastic torn apart
fed her alcohol like a bottle to a baby
popped her pills till it paused her heart
As he'd comb his hands though her soft brown hair
streaks of gray followed the strands he once brushed
he'd press his black lips on her sun spotted cheeks
and place a rotten finger over her mouth whispering, "hush"
he tugged her night gown once more in the rocking chair
as wind from the open window brushed by with a chill
he held the jagged dagger up to her neck
although his intention was not to ****
as he sliced her open, the scythe hit the ground
her eyes of glass finally stood still
he brushed her hair behind her ear and whisperd
"i promise, my intention was not to ****."
They walked away from the old rocking chair
hand in hand like it was from the start
because although life gives you your pulse
the reaper steals your beating heart

As I pulled back the layers of mulberry
I watched the world around me slowly disappear.
I fell into a thin sheen that disolved as I reached out my hands
It was silent
Somehow eerily peaceful
Magically mysterious, intimidatingly intruiging
As I walk upon its Arabian sands I see a figure
dressed in silk and gold
the coins around her waist; rattling, scattling, chattering, scattering
she walks up to me with a swing in her rhythmic step
Her glimmering hands brush back the hair covering my face
as she brushes it behind my ear she smiles
she pulls the thick blanket of midnight over my weary eyes
And I fall out of it once again

it seems if as i though i have fallen
into something way over my head
you’ve already claimed that you love me
but i think it’s something better not said