Ever the yonder,
ever the fonder.

Your grasp,
one day soon,
will entangle me in happiness.
I'll never wish to leave.

Yet the roads stretch;
the clocks stop;
the crowds vanish.

Four walls surround me,
And for you, one day,
one of them will fall.

Death is not pretty.
Death is not brave,
Death is not freedom
Or grace
Or clarity
Or glorious.
Death is lonely,
Undignified,  
And vastly disappointing.
I do not recommend you try it.

(Written from my best friend's viewpoint. I hope she gets better soon.)

In search of release,
Autumnal gusts escape me.
A sorrow shower.

Surrounded in a sea of shivering fear,
Floating and bobbing until I come near
The tight, warm grasp of a human hand;
The thunderous triumph of standing on land.

I’m weak at my knees as I mindlessly drift.
What would I do to make water shift?
I need to be seen and I need to be read;
I’m gonna be crumpled and torn into shreds.

Day upon day, my plight never ends --
Destinations are missed, time and again.
See, my dear friend, it’s never over:
I keep floating around, over and over.

Six faces surround me,
None of which speak.

Surrounded I sit,
A body cast in bubble wrap,
Sewn tightly with brown tape.

Carve a hole and pull me out.
I’ll be your prized possession
If you’ll have me on your shelf.

Pray we for the sun:
Vivid, shining warmly.
We'll chase the everlasting day,
As the sun entraps us in its rays.

No clocks and no watches.
No nocturne shall be feared.
Forever doesn't matter now;
Time doesn't matter anyhow.