He* sees her today, anxious but with excitement
With a heart so ready, he waits for the right moment
He comes to her with a happy greeting
For it has been long since their last meeting
She seems him, and greets with a "Hi"
He was so happy, he literally could fly
He was so happy, but could not express
For his love was never confessed
A friend, she calls him. A close one at that
A best friend, a brother he was to her
He has been there for her, every moment before that
But with no knowledge of the love he offers
For years, he was trying for the right moment
But could not, because *another guy loves her
In fairness, the other guy was better, intelligent and street smart
Though, it bothers him why she doesn't like the guy as much
Why does she treat the guy as such?
As he loves her so
He can't, because the other guy loves her
He knew the other guy loves her
So, he let him go first, and he confessed
So now they're together, leaving him in the ice
Just because he was too nice.

his fist clenched
his mind benched
her eyes black
her jaw slack
and bleeding

her blood red
him out of his head
the child hiding,
crying....inside dying

violence never asks
never is the answer
for the victims
it is slow death
for society a cancer

Inhale.

Let the cold sweep through my system,
tracing its way
through veins and arteries,
the chill running down my spine
and staying there.

I embrace the tension
where the air meets skin
and welcome it through my pores.

They say the feet are the most porous
part of the body.
So if I stand here long enough,
bare feet on stone,
will the cold enter my body
and inhabit my veins?

Exhale.

Warm air rushes past,
relieving the tension,
and at once I miss it,
hurrying to
take
one more breath.
Arch my neck,
gazing upward.

Inhale.

The stars have slowly
disappeared, winking out
one
           by
                      one
as we replaced them
with highrise towers and shiny automobiles and city street lights.

All that's left
(exhale)
is the moon,
fat and solitary
in the city night sky.
But even she
will be gone soon too
(inhale)
as we paint ourselves (and her)
with telephone poles and skyscrapers
                                                  into a corner
with no escape.

Exhale.

.

Drying in the sun
   on a beaten path
bruised and stained
   by faded  blooms
crushed beneath
   the falling night
of a desperate moon
   hiding within
the memories of
   those lost