I lie with the cool moist breeze caressing my skin.
The mossy grass as soft as a feather mattress at my back.
I hear the birds up high in the canopy of leaves.
The sounds of the glade, from the squirrels scurrying to the foxes prowling assail my ears.
Peace pervades this forest, life carries on unhindered, from the ants to the worms, time and existence carry on full circle.
I'm part of that circle of forest life
ever since you took mine with your knife.
Leaving me lying staring up at the sky.
I see you returning every now and then,
do you see and hear and feel what I do?
Or do you just see the rotting me,
lying as still as a mannequin?
My murderer know this, I have been a feast to the beasts,
and I live on in them.
Soon, you'll not come back again, but I will always be with you.
And so will the insects, flies and life that bred from me in this glen.

The way that I let you shatter my chest
like a piece of glass.
or the way I would let you
do it all over again.

Wilt thou love me, sweet, when my hair is grey
And my cheeks shall have lost their hue?
When the charms of youth shall have passed away,
Will your love as of old prove true?

For the looks may change, and the heart may range,
And the love be no longer fond;
Wilt thou love with truth in the years of youth
And away to the years beyond?

Oh, I love you, sweet, for your locks of brown
And the blush on your cheek that lies —
But I love you most for the kindly heart
That I see in your sweet blue eyes.

For the eyes are signs of the soul within,
Of the heart that is leal and true,
And mine own sweetheart, I shall love you still,
Just as long as your eyes are blue.

For the locks may bleach, and the cheeks of peach
May be reft of their golden hue;
But mine own sweetheart, I shall love you still,
Just as long as your eyes are blue.

one day I will make you dinner.
the next, I will choose TV shows
               over spending time with you;
then maybe next week
               I'll write you a love song
and after I'll forget
               to return your call.
some days I'll read poetry to your voicemail --
some days I'll be an hour late for drinks.

I am a sometimes-girl.
      the kind with too many pairs of shoes
               who forgets to water her plants and
               who will love you
               several days a week -- but
               maybe not the others.
and you need to know that I know that you
deserve
something better.

I will keep you waiting;
I will frustrate you, and
I promise, I'm not worth the trouble.

still, I hope you'll stick around.

The surface seems sweeter the deeper you go.
Please give me your hand.
I'm too far below.

It's always darkest right before dawn.
How long have I been sleeping on rock bottom?
Have you got a breathing apparatus on?
I'm sending signals in waves.

This is a new kind of certain old craze:
holding one's breath til the end of their days.

A good captain always goes down with his ship.
Easily done when there are no lifeboats attached to it.

I'm shooting up flares.
Is anyone there?
They sail right on by when you no longer care.

thoughts, they are
        smoke escaping from chimneys and clouding darkened skies,
skies home to birds flapping their wings trying to fly,
thoughts are flying bricks falling all at once on shoulders already holding weights,
weighing the night's silence on open palms
and fingers blackened with soot
hold feathers plucked from tree branches,
seeking to clean bloodied slates
in gardens where dreams flow down the river into caves
-caves with lights at the end of tunnels,
and lamps which flicker during storms and
lightning which penetrates even closed eyes.
                       thoughts, they are
companions with opens arms which sometimes have
knives hidden up their sleeves,
and they are wells
which hold coins-
silver, gold, bronze and brass.
dreams and wishes fondled by the gentle, sometimes
     corrosive current of waves
and shadows which carry the tube light just so they stay alive.
     but these thoughts, they are also
my reason for you,
chains and leaves hanging with ease around a neck and rings which sing like canaries on insomniac fingers
   and crimson letters carrying pictures, so
with that is my justice,
because with your name they give me solace, and
with your image they give me peace
and with the sound of your voice in the meadows of my mind,
i find tranquility.
and with the shadows that follow on my heels, i laugh and i smile,
    because with these thoughts
i am with you and you,
          you are
with me
---------

Now is the time,
When I realize that all that walking
All that sobbing,
All that pillow hugging,
Is because I probably have depression.
Or my life is just a pile of shattered glass,
Not easily fixed.
It needs help from the outside world.
Will the world help me?

Today I must end our friendship.
It hurts,
Like acid burning your skin.
And I wish I would have scars to
Remember by,
But instead all I have is the heartache
That will one day go away.
So today I sever us.
I tell you I need space,
I need to be alone.
To fight this depression on my own.
But I so wish you were here with me.
I am afraid.
And if I lose you,
I'll be alone.
But it's for the best that I do this.
It's for your sake,
So you don't get hurt.
I don't want you to end up like me.
So I must sever this.