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James Jarrett Mar 2014
I reached out to touch her
And nothing was there
Her soft warmth
Was missing
Even the ghost
That she left in the bed
When she slipped away
Late in the night
Was gone
That wraith of heat
And scent that lingered
On in the sheets
Was missing
That spot that I could feel
And know
That she had just been there
There was nothing now
But the cold
My hand touched
Nothing
Someday I realized
That this would be forever
That there would be more
Cold
Than I could bear
Last night meant
Nothing
It was only
Anger blowing like the wind
Disturbing the night
Throwing leaves and debris
In the darkness
I rushed home to find her
Soft and warm
Nestled in our bed
And put her skin
Beneath my kiss
And held her warmth
And softness
In my arms
My hands feeling her
Caressing her
Beneath the sheets
Last night meant
Nothing
Nothing at all
Yeah, late night
James Jarrett Mar 2014
I almost became
Someones sad poems
Then I met you
James Jarrett Mar 2014
I've drunk of the wine of spring

and been intoxicated by the lush sweetness of it's life

I've basked in the sky of the cool summer night

and felt the myriad stars beckoning to my soul

I've felt autumns bitter chill settling into my bones

as the leaves turned scarlet red and knew that winter was near

I've felt the frozen bite of Decembers icy winds wrap me

in their lifeless embrace and steal the warmth from my heart
From the Lunch with the ****** series
James Jarrett Mar 2014
My disease is free.

Stained upon this carpet of green.

Slipping away, bound no more by pain,

by loss,

by destruction,

by hatred,

My disease, my life, runs slowly from my veins
From the Lunch with the ****** series
James Jarrett Mar 2014
Every day I slumber and as I do the life of
light and love and laughter passes silently
by.My world of eternal sleep and shadowed
night is frequented by the wraiths of the
living, come to mock, pity or invite me to
their world of sunshine. But that is for
them.This land of eternal dusk is inhabited
only by souls such as myself, cut off for
eternity from the rays of the sun and the
gentle breezes.We are creatures of the dark,
born to our destiny, blind and cold and this
is all we know.Some of us care, some not, but
all one and the same we shoulder our burden
and trudge incessantly and wearily down the
path to hell
From the Lunch with the ****** series
James Jarrett Mar 2014
Shades of black and dusky grey
Like wind whipped, whispering leaves
Cloud my memory dull and dim
chasing all but fleeting ghosts away

I know that somewhere deep within
The twisted labyrinth of my brain
There lies a place of green and light
Of peace behind the pain
Memories of a different life
Lived by a different man
James Jarrett Mar 2014
Loneliness and bitterness
fill her empty shell

Her lying words of love
slowly craft her hell

Trapped within the cell
of dark and twisted brain

All that she can ever give
is cold uncaring pain

Not a tendril of tender emotion
can reach into that soul

Except her own self pity
Poured endlessly down that hole
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