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My first well Day—since many ill—
I asked to go abroad,
And take the Sunshine in my hands,
And see the things in Pod—

A ‘blossom just when I went in
To take my Chance with pain—
Uncertain if myself, or He,
Should prove the strongest One.

The Summer deepened, while we strove—
She put some flowers away—
And Redder cheeked Ones—in their stead—
A fond—illusive way—

To cheat Herself, it seemed she tried—
As if before a child
To fade—Tomorrow—Rainbows held
The Sepulchre, could hide.

She dealt a fashion to the Nut—
She tied the Hoods to Seeds—
She dropped bright scraps of Tint, about—
And left Brazilian Threads

On every shoulder that she met—
Then both her Hands of Haze
Put up—to hide her parting Grace
From our unfitted eyes.

My loss, by sickness—Was it Loss?
Or that Ethereal Gain
One earns by measuring the Grave—
Then—measuring the Sun—

My heart full of weight beats like a wet leaf moving in the wind.
Resisting but still moving.
When the rain comes it will be beaten down and lay still,
waiting for the sun to shine again.
It's only a matter of time til it beats a lighter beat, content to move where the wind takes it.
Only one thing it needs to soar,
and only one person who can give it.

Moonlight dreams
of sunny days
there in the darkness
a star gaze
reaching out
to brighten your soul
to lift the despair
ease the cold
always as endless
as the universe
before the storm
I loved you first

How long can I hold on

How long has it been

So many scars that never heal

Opening once again

I have bleed too many years

Grown cold inside

When will the tears cease

Numbness has yet to set in

Today I feel much hate

Hate who I am

Hate what I’ve become

I will make this change

I can not wilt away

I might be beat

I will not allow defeat

A sliver of determination rests here

I am holding this with much care

Awaiting the day when the flood rushes in

And all is to begin again.
******

“Pain never really goes away….you just elevate and get use to it by growing stronger” ~ Unknown

I felt like I cried too much just then, with my head in your lap and my cheeks stinging with salty tears.

I want to die today, but I can't bring you with me.
I can't bring you with me in the bleak narrow curvings of my soul absent doubt.
I hate hating myself so much.
When I look in the mirror I judge from predisposed and painted self doubt.
I trim my frame with unrealistic absurdities that make matters worse by setting them self up for failure to begin with.
I do not think one should continue to prevent them self from cutting off their own airflow to preserve another being's feelings.
Though the act of suicide is selfish, and abstaining from the act to keep others from blaming themselves is in fact selfless; however perpetual self loathing is almost as demanding a lifetime of guilt that comes out of wishing you could have done something to help.

I sit on the inside looking out. And more of the time I am perched in there, I am looking around, from within.

Disolving the interior and remembering the good old walls.

What happened to those willful walls and forgiving storage areas? Nothing is ever good enough; like a mingy white room-once coated twice, but over time has been repainted in folding colors, creating a texture that was not meant to gain, nor pleases as a result.

I want all of the excuses and laziness and hastiness to melt away and the chaos that sits with darkness at the corners of everything, to fall away as toxic as they are, and I want to sit outside of myself and watch in praise and humble patience.

Hibiscus flowers are cups of fire,
(Love me, my lover, life will not stay)
The bright poinsettia shakes in the wind,
A scarlet leaf is blowing away.

A lizard lifts his head and listens —
Kiss me before the noon goes by,
Here in the shade of the ceiba hide me
From the great black vulture circling the sky.