"I need space" she said
And took away, in her eyes,
My whole universe.

Roots* will protect your head from the ground

As it falls through light, space and sound

From far up high, from where the thunder rolls

Behind clouds pink-orange, white and gold.

Somewhere far from now
we will bask under a glorious sun
your legs stretched out
beside my shapeless form,
your skin submerged in waves of light
beads of sweat evaporating
off your open palms
and the stories you describe, alive
with brilliant amber sunshine in your eyes.
Somewhere far from now, we will be
clouds, lazing amidst mountainous trees
floating, floating above our rocky extremes
past shores of white sand, where we meet
Till then, I wait, aching patiently
I, the silent hill and you
the deep blue sea.

A glowing warmth
lights up the front yard
and slivers
of sunshine
touch gently upon
your brown eyes.

A butterfly blazes yellow
and in the breeze,
tall, old trees sway
together, ever so gently.

A sultry kiss
blown across a lazy heaven
brushes tenderly against
your blushing cheek,
and a summer sun
burns through the mundane
as the murmurs of the universe
reverbate far within your brain.

That's when you surmise
maybe its not just plants
that photosynthesize.

to grieve the loss of someone alive
makes me wish i were dead
facing fears we once faced together
i face alone instead
the unthinkable had to happen
though it'd been a long time coming
now the dust has settled
i'm no longer left wandering
i couldn't say goodbye
i couldn't even look at your face
the hole left in my chest
is such a hollow space
it was the opening of a door
that was meant for my way out
the one i had refused to open
i'm now being pushed out

i've seen four stages of grief
up until this moment
and now the only one left is
acceptance
it isn't any less hurtful than the other four
and i've return like a stray
staring at the door

but it's not to be opened anymore.

Your heart moves like a pendulum,
the weight of the blood carrying;
as it beats, sways, and springs.

Ba-thump, ba-thump, ba-thump; swing.

The sound of your cuckoo-clock heart rings,
resonates, in my ears, and the vibrations echo in my mind;

your eyes blink, tick tock tick tock.

Ba-thump, ba-thump, ba-thump; swing.

Our eyes lock, whispers linger,
as our breaths synchronize to your metronome;
our feet fumble, tip tap tip tap,
and our time becomes lost in the sound:

Ba-thump, ba-thump, ba-thump; swing.