I long for the comfort of your presence,
With your arm around my shoulder and your hand in mine

I would have you kiss me sweetly on the cheek,
Feeling the warmth spread from there

To look into your eyes again,
To see the well of pain and hope and fight,
To know that my kisses bring you comfort.

What I wouldn't do to have that again

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Wishing I could reach out and touch you,
To see those freckles again

I sit here in the hollowness of my mind and body
My heart is a spastic amoeba, trying to contain itself and explode all at once

Can you see the light piercing my back?
Turned into a monster from these beautiful feelings

Do I let you know?
Do you want to know?

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As striking as you are,
So is your

Absence

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A fountain of blood coming from your nose.
I see you writhe, I see the quiet scream exiting between your teeth
No one can help you
I can't help you.

As the pool of blood grows beneath your head,
The blood doesn't stop
It looks disgustingly rich.
I can see your soul draining out,
Soon to be dried flecks, scraped off the pavement.
No one can help you
I can't help you.

A lowly feeling indeed

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As the lonely hours go past,
I idly sit and think of you

Sweetest wine of the rarest kind,
A rapturous note in a melody

And me,
Only too happy to take it all in

Just one more glass.
Just one more song.

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Skipping rocks across the water,
Trying to hit paper targets on the other side.

What a waste of time.

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Wanting to cry for a life I've never known.
Wanting to mourn connections I've never had.
Wanting to feel heartache over pain I've never felt.

Why is so much of my life skirting by the edges of human existence?
Wishing for, hoping for, wanting a life like others
So close to feeling fully human
But maybe I am Pinocchio

Almost, but not
Quite.

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