Is it happening again
You're right on time
This ache is a calling card and the
Silence that grows with it follows
One side stepping the other in a
Waltz we know too well
Please speak before there's no room left
and we become lousy artwork
on opposing walls
Your pattern is a clouded mirror and
I need to know if there will be something
to celebrate or if my pressed lips will be against the bottle at midnight

My Adonis
In a metal T-shirt
His curls, his smile
The lights and sweat
A quick word spoken
But an everlasting vision left
Of who I imagined he could be

In my mind I lived a life by his side
My fingertips on the nape of his neck
Feeling his lips against my skin
Waking up wrapped in his arms
In that shirt
All in the matter of a moment
And a fleeting one at that

So I will keep this perfect stranger
In a place I hope he never fades
For it would be a tragedy to ever forget that face

The city sings it's siren song
Gunmetal and lonesome blue
Glittering lights beckon the step
But the glass between my life and the streets gives courage to my coward soul on the 22nd floor
Cheap champagne as a last meal
A cigarette would be nice
but this is a non smoking room
A moment in time passes
With a decision made in haste
My last words
Written on the asphalt with my body as the ink

More or less another beginning
No further forward than before
Side stepping into another dimension
Soon standing at a different door
Unaware of what awaits
But knowing what is left behind
hollow and ungiving
no longer worthy of the time

Before the petals start to wither
And the wine begins to waste
Take a leap out of the window
Remembering to
Always roll with grace

Writer's block
my fickle muse
is presently satisfied
leaving me with nothing
but happiness and
a feeling of restless neglect
of my own expression

how ugly it is to only draw from
pain and sorrow when the destination
is always peace of mind

for the time
until it comes
and then I'm here again
always looking over my shoulder

If he shall fall from my arms
Like the leaves of a tree
And blow with the wind
Under another’s shade
I will be left in the open
Wondering if the season
Of loneliness has come again
As it always has when
The winters are cold

Come spring I feel
I will not
Have the strength to bud again

Life in all its colors
Drip from tips of the fingers
Of those stuck behind windows and walls
Watching as the others grab happiness
As if prepositioned before their eyes
They are
Full of the joy that had left me long ago
Now I sit
looking out
Always left wanting
Of the things I let slip
Of those who never came back
Of a love and life I now know
I'll never have again