All those feelings you read about
have hit me all at once
and I feel emotionally, mentally and physically drained.

Being home helps some, but does not
fill the void left in my heart
or the loneliness when I walk in the door.

Tears flow without reason, smiles are hard to come by,
and love will be lost for what I am sure will feel like eternity.

I have never been a perfect lover,
way too many faults
but I have always tried to be the best I could be
I am afraid my well is dry.

I am broken, and there is no quick fix to mend my heart.

Poetry is for those who know that emotion
Is encrypted within the words spoken
Poetry is for the curious, and the mysterious
Although most Poets are true, they’re irrepressibly mischievous  
So open your mind before you open eyes
For this art often wears a bashful disguise

*Ink is *****, mixed with scarlet love
Words are jagged, and poetry is blood

You'd forget me even before I die
But that's okay
At least at my wake you won't cry
If you ever find out about it
That is

I'll be "That Girl I Once Knew" to you
And that's just fine
Though I wish I had the chance to call you mine
Before I died

You once mirrored my happiness
But that ended soon enough
It's alright that I'm dead
Life's been rough

I hope you live a long happy life
You deserve one
Don't ever think of me again
Not even just once

Down feathered and soft,
Pressed up against me at night;
They can't replace you.