I died inside and shut the door
Just climbed inside, but just before
I slammed it shut, I saw you there
The only soul to look with care.
You saw this boy. You saw my tears.
I'd hid both well throughout the years.
You found my inward river flow.
That's filled me up, my hollow soul.

I'd lost some things since I was young
All my feelings except for one.
See emptiness had chose to stay,
And dig a hole in which to play.
The dirt he scooped was made of me
My likes, my cares, my hopes and dreams.
The hole he made just grew in size
Enough to hide me deep inside.

The tears I cried they filled the rest
Soaked inside out this hollow chest.
My lonely cave, this empty soul
These shovel-fulls had took their toll
And so I hid, as our eyes met
I latched the door without regret
I'd had too much to stop this train
The breaks were gone, just too much pain.

So just don't knock leave me alone.
My hollowed hole is my new home.
Inside these walls is where I'll stay.
Don't write, don't call just go away.
These four walls, a haven I've made,
Save me from what was dug away,
But still keep me from moving on
This door, these walls, could this be wrong?

My tears fill the well that was designed for them.
Soon traveling down my cheeks and chin.
As creeks or streams might allow a mountain's rainy day runoff,
To gently pass over stone.
Triggered by a scent, a sound, a thought,
A dagger like sting from a memory of,
What could have been.
Perhaps the fearful gaze upon a future
That may lay ahead.

And so they fall.
Dying my eyes red.
In silence, I try to gather my thoughts,
Odd for someone whose thoughts
Placed him in this predicament
And as I stack them.
Neatly. I might add.
The breeze of your memory knocks them to the floor.
Again.
Because this has happened before.

You have done this to me once again.
This time your presence wasn't even necessary.
To cause this cascade of solemnity.
But I realize that sadness,
Isn't what I endure.
Rather reflection,
Similar to the one emerging on the countertop,
Under my chin
That grows with every drip and drop,
Grants that sadness has left me,
But each memory's searing pain
Doses me with lonely regret of squandered opportunity.
Which stabs at my heart.

The dripping soon subsides,
And with face stained scarlet.
I wipe away the remnants
Of my rainfall.
From face and counter.
And prepare the shielded smile.
That has protected me,
Since you left.
I prepare my next joke
Buttoning it from intro to punchline
Hoping that it garners a laugh.
So that, even if vicariously,
I can smile.

Mediocrity isn't my favorite flavor
But I make do
Tasting other sensations and qualities as well.
Like candied revenge,
And carmeled success.

But mediocrity is slightly different
It's bitter...
But not enough that it would ever cause me to settle
For something else
That was further from my seated reach.
It's also stale, at times,
As if it were left out on a bar all night,
To be eaten by others looking for, well
Anything.

As I bit down on mediocrity once more
I couldn't help but salivate
At the thought of achievement and drive
Memories of their savory aftertastes overtaking the putty being mulled about my teeth.
And I swallowed the paste.
Mostly to get the taste out of my mouth.

But as my taste buds clear,
And my thoughts drift elsewhere.
The idea that one more hand full of mediocrity
Might not be that bad.
Creeps into the back of my mind.
After all,
It is within reach.

She married a dead man
She didn't know at the time
But he died before she had ever met him
Heart first
Soul second

He died the summer after his sophomore year of college
When he was crushed
By loves pavement likeness
His girlfriend at the time
Told him it was over
And proceeded to string him along until
One morning in August he went to surprise her
And after several of his calls went to voicemail
He traversed the steps to her apartment
And knocked on door 401.

He was greeted by a large fellow named Mike who asked in a limited vocabulary
Who he thought he was?
And why would he interrupt
An intimate moment between Mike and Mike's side piece?
Although he was confused by Mike's use of third person
The expletives Mike chose were both clear in their intensity and intent.

He was never sure how he got to his car
Perhaps he had floated down the stairway
Then again maybe he skipped the short jaunt altogether
And teleported.
He reached his dorm room, and there
He was sure his heart died
And it had.

See his heart first bled out empathy,
Then sympathy and later trust
The cold ***** let go of love last of all.
Only hours before his future wife had met him.
She was life support the yellow streak  in his grey sunset.
She loved him like only she could
With trust, truth and devotion,
And his heart still died

But that death didn't keep him
From marrying her 6 years after his heart's eulogy was read.
And while her patience waned and
His chilly heart
Hid the truth from her
She loved him

And though it took 3 years
She realized
Someone had killed their love.
Before they even knew what they shared.
Salted the soil of their romance,
And rather than move on
Her love was stuck,
He and his dead heart
Were no longer moving forward ,
But in the most real way
His heart was dead.
Killed by an unrequited love.
Long before now.

A book shouldn't be judged by its cover they said.
A person should be judged on their heart they said.
Plenty of books go unread
They are too small
Too thick
Too old
Too beat up

People and love have the same fate as a book.
Love is hypocritical.
How can an emotion, that is said to be
Judged by the heart,
Consider the optical cortex's opinion.
Before it weighs a soul
Hypocrites.

Predators are lead by their sight as well.
Killing off prey
In blood lust
That is interesting.
Perhaps lust is the issue
Their eyes devour what they want
While the heart is left empty.

If I lose weight am I subscribing to this belief?
Am I not fit enough to be loved?
Would being devoured by predators truly mend my heart?
My windowless soul bleeds.
While their eyes ignore me.
Am I changing myself to be loved, or
Can love change itself to find me?

My words try to escape
But my tongue is unwilling
They stick in a spiderweb of fear
Entwined in the sticky silk of terror.
Never to be devoured
They linger.

Would it be worse
If they somehow
Worked themselves free
And found the ear
they had been searching for all along.
But still they're stuck

Hovering, these ghosts,
Of passion once felt and feared
And words wished said,
Keep me up nights.
Knowing and not knowing
What would you have said?

Kiss me hard
To remind my lips
That this was what we waited for.
That this plunge into a sea of passion
While unsafe and daring
Was worth the trouble
Was worth the searing heartache.
A heartache that once broke me
Long ago.

Kiss me long
So that my heart
Will never forget love once existed inside
And it was more than a blistering passion
It was true and sturdy
Built upon our trust
In ourselves, in each other
In what we are building
For our future.

Kiss me soon
To prove to my mind
That this isn't a dream.
That this isn't a hazy alternate reality
Where you will disappear
The next time my eyelids rest.
Make it quick so this moment
Won't die in vain.
Kiss me.