The words don't come like they used to.
Maybe its a sign of waning hardship-
Or lack of feeling.
Either way, I am empty.

She grew tired of her thoughts
and the weaknesses they had found,
So she flicked her embered cigarette;
and burnt them to the ground.

I am the Zelda.
The manic Fitzgerald,
Not nearly half as good as my other half,
but supposedly,
Awash with many enviable traits,
Beauty, Clarity and Limitless talent, abound.
or so they tell me.

Golden light spills out,
The only mess in this place,
I won't have to clean.

Lets lie down,
On your bed,
Let's prove to each other
were not dead.

Crumpled clothes,
Hair a mess,
Breathing hard,
against your chest.

Smelling sweet,
Of love and sweat,
Pillows strewn,
Sheets all wet.

A happy girl,
Rosy cheeked,
With her man,
Ain't love neat.

How do I fall asleep without you next to me?
How do I know that when the nightmares come I wont be swallowed whole.
And when the terror,
The shakes
And the self important universe descend upon my head that I can find safety in the hollow of your neck and the crook of your elbow.