I love you now,
Yet not anymore.
That smile you gave,
Shook my bones to my core.

As if on repeat,
I still now remember.
Once was so bright;
Now a dying ember.

Stop and gather a breath.
Take me in your embrace.
Now we say goodbye.
Turning from the other's face.

Your breath stained my skin
Your fingertips became a continuation of my spine
Your eyes told a story that your mouth denied
A bittersweet love song
I melted in the lyrics

I looked for your horizon today
In the shower I washed in your energy
In my coffee I craved your taste
Wrapping myself in your melody
Hovering in a state of denial

I saw your smile in a field of purple henbit
I heard your whispers in the air
On the wind I floated
My hair tangled
Searching for you in the shades of cascading sun

The hum of your heart beat echoes
Like the tread of my tires pounding on the pavement
You carry me to freedom
Like the image in my rearview and the miles ahead
An adventure that needs no map
I'd follow you anywhere

Tonight I'll wrap myself in a memory
Goosebumps linger on my skin
A craving that will have to wait
Until then

My steps have led me
To a far unknown place
Where the Beast is hiding,
Where the Dark is shining
Across the other side
Of the moor.

Magpies have sung me
About a far unknown place
Where my Heart is hiding
Into a deep dark well
On the other side
Of the moor.

My memories have left me
Into a black unknown place
Where a patient Solitude awaits,
Unnatural Silence circulates
A deep dark well
On the blackest side
Of the moor.

*The Beast is laughing...

To heal
is to create

To heal is to create a
new and improved version
of what was left in a pile of
shattered emotions

To heal is to break free
from the chains
that held you back
for so long

To heal is to learn
how to breathe again

To heal is to
feel alive
and to start anew

To heal is to become
a masterpiece;
a mosaic of pain and heartache,
reimagined into the most beautiful
thing to have ever existed

92

My friend must be a Bird—
Because it flies!
Mortal, my friend must be,
Because it dies!
Barbs has it, like a Bee!
Ah, curious friend!
Thou puzzlest me!

Wild was the day; the wintry sea
  Moaned sadly on New-England's strand,
When first the thoughtful and the free,
  Our fathers, trod the desert land.

They little thought how pure a light,
  With years, should gather round that day;
How love should keep their memories bright,
  How wide a realm their sons should sway.

Green are their bays; but greener still
  Shall round their spreading fame be wreathed,
And regions, now untrod, shall thrill
  With reverence when their names are breathed.

Till where the sun, with softer fires,
  Looks on the vast Pacific's sleep,
The children of the pilgrim sires
  This hallowed day like us shall keep.

You live only in memories
for me, memories
and ashes on the floorboards.
It's strange to think
that you're out there
living and breathing
and moving about
in a world that I'm not
a part of.

I think of songs that we sang
bruises we made
broken guitar strings
ragged throats
disembodied words
wasted glances
and it all just sits there
misty and faint
in little corners of my mind
and I don't miss you at all.

the human condition
is rarely terminal.