When the snow stops,
we will not be cold my love,
The sun will spread on our backs
and we can let go of our blankets.

The river will no longer shed her tears and the clouds
will be bereft of their sorrow.

You and I can take a walk my love,
when the snow stops,
and look at the bed where the river once crashed and carried,
dried and forlorn now,
frowning at the winking sun.

You and I my love,
can follow the bed till it ends on the mountain top.
the silent noise will fill our ears,
the trees will be unburdened of their green cloaks,
mouths of empty joy will face the sun
and you and I my love will have nothing left to say
when the snow stops.

Internetly
There's nothing I cannot be
I can pretend I am rich
Or young, or anyone
But me
But that doesn't work
With poetry
It strips me bare
For all to see

Now there were two of them
Separated between thousands
of read texts and timely
chats touched by sound
but not skin  
Awake in the others sleeping
Sleeping in the others awake  
Restless as they wait
Restless as they wait

I went into a dark corner
To write a poem about shadows
But She wouldn't let me do that
She was there in the dark smiling

So we talked awhile
About the dark things in life
How I need to let them out sometimes
As a kind of cleansing

We looked at each other there
And all the time
She looked steadily into my right eye
Where I could see myself reflected

So long as I can conjour Her
I am not alone - Sally, lightens.
I asked Her, there in the corner,
Could she help with the shadows...

She said, "We dont have any..."

It is when
the rain
breaks my slumber
interrupting my glittered dreams
that I remember
... to cry
for it is in that moment,
3am thoughts
and almost forgotten
memories,
that I miss you

No poetry today.
No words for the despair.
No calming the fears.
No poetry today.

I hate that I can't listen to my favourite songs anymore
Because I love them cause of you
So a knot turns in my stomach
But is it cause I miss you
Or cause I'm dissapointed
In you
And me

have you ever stopped to think
that maybe i raise my voice
not out of disrespect
but maybe
so you can listen?
listen.
there is a heart here, afraid. of you.
there is brokenness you inflicted. pain you named into existence.
wounds that maybe time will heal.
there is laughter that does not want you to hear it.
a song whispered so that you cannot have it.
one day the whisper will become a song.
the laughter a poem.
the heart a voice, saying,
i am here i am here i am here
i am here i am here i am here
i am here
and you will listen.