I wither. I fail. I scream
I will not wake. Not ever from what awaits.
Silver abode and dark tusks.
No room for me. No room for mourning.

Sharp tongue and jolly seeming eyes
not aware of the deception
not wary of the sun that sets.
Because dentures and all, silver abodes
with dark tusks.

They come and find me. Not gold. Silver
Nor a gleam of a crown.
A gleam of parchment and sharp ink
for that is my silver and my home.

The familiar smell
The subtle sound of a drizzle
The bustling people
The sound of a street band in the distance
The memories
The reveries
The realization
The end

Losing grip
As the void opens below me.
A rage like a flame,
Ready to consume it all away.
The water douses the flame,
The smooth visage
Of the silently stoic seas
Now threatening to drown
Rather than to save.

One good tug deserves my time,
And so I unwillingly fall
Into the drowning sea.

Reddened hands,
slick with broken skin
Reduce the sea to an abhorrent red.
Now sadness has a new color.

yet you stayed awake with me
I wish to know the feeling of your warmth
or to hear your voice
I want to make you smile
or comfort you when you cry
I wish to know how your hand will feel when holding mine
or to laugh with you in the sun
I want to take in your fragrance
or to admire every detail of you

we're miles apart but it feels like your right here
I miss you
When we meet, I promise to love and adore you
I'll give you all my love
and admire everything about you
add it to a list
so when we're miles apart
I can tell you what I love about you each day

My thoughts are achromatic
Indifference is the bane of poetry
Hard to write when you can't feel.
Hard to feel since, well, You know.