I want to slice through
   the voices
      haunting my head
and suffocate
   the aches
      taunting my heart.

I want to scrape away
   the memories
      burning a hole in my mind
and carve out
   the curiosity
       tormenting my soul.

anger
resonating
through me,
never
sufficiently
released
by any words
that I write.

determination
now rising
through me,
so I'm
strengthening
my resolve
and starting
tonight.

Trapped in rooms with bland, white walls
absently overhearing lessons
supposedly pertinent to life
     “the experience of being torn between two incompatible alternatives”
Sigh of irony.
     “Symptoms of conflict:
     inability to make decisions
     general moral deterioration
     avoidance of responsibility
     taking the path of least resistance”

***** this class.

     I need a change of season,
     a scorching sun,
     a summer rain,
     and roads that stretch for miles.
     I need an escape
     that doesn’t end so soon,

But hours later, I’m stuck in a cold office,
and both you and I know that
data entry and phone calls
will never distract our minds from pain.
And our
cold,
distant
communication,
     if you could even call it that,
brings a violent ache
that floods my entire being.

But I can’t fight
anymore,
so I have to sit back
and wait.
wait.
wait.

every night I go to sleep with you.

you wrap your arms around me,
you pull me closer to your smile,
your eyes await until mine concede, and
you kiss away my uncertainty, inch by inch by inch.
and when my mind collapses from the beautiful exhaustion your simple presence has put me through,
you're there to guide me through my dreams,
and you lay patiently awaiting as I wake.

you're a constant presence.
 where I go, 
you'll be.
No matter the miles,
 you're always 
with me.

I feel how you feel.
Your hatred,
your sorrow,
Your love,
your fear,
Your doubt,
your confusion,

Your desperation
beyond reparation,
I feel how you feel.

Your every emotion
threatening to choke out
the life of me.
Empathy, I'm told,
is a marvelous gift.

Unable to please myself, though,
because your happiness is on the line,
and I'll just keep on telling myself
that I'm fine.

But wedding bells are beginning
to sound like hell,
and I think
there might be something wrong here.

Beautiful faces
in the most unexpected places
remind me that there's more to life
than this.

Each and every one,
a story all their own.
A lifetime of hurt,
of joy,
of perfect imperfection.

All at once
the crowd screams their pain:
   neglect
   abuse
   failure
   loss
   empty homes and
   shattered hopes,
they scream in utter silence.

You are not alone,
their faces whisper.
Their quiet reassurance more musical
than the song playing
in my ears.

Slowing to a stop
we each grab our bags,
exit without a word,
and scatter to follow each of our paths.

Unspoken therapy
at nine in the morning,
Forcing an interesting sense of gratitude
towards a broken down car
and a broken down spirit.

I dream of
Wrapping my arms around your neck,
Feeling your hands discovering my ribs,
   gripping my legs, and
   tracing my spine,

Switching from sitting near you
   to sleeping beside you,
Concealing our love under covers
   for hours.

I dream of
Dancing with you and your subtle sway,
Trying not to notice as the hours,
   and minutes,
   and seconds
pass too fast for us.

Trying to persuade time to take back
its hurried departure,
   so we can have a few moments,
   a few precious moments,
   longer.

I dream of
Brushing my cheek against yours
   and sighing in sync
   with overwhelming ecstasy.

Running my fingers through your hair,
   and softly sketching my love on your skin.

I dream of
     drowsy,
            clumsy,
     desperate
affections.

When I drift off to sleep,
     my dear,
it seems
I always dream
of
you.