i'm bleeding diamonds -
twinkling and twinkling as they shatter on the black floor -
shining like falling stars as they leak from my ***** body.

i'm wounded,
can't you see?
you kissed me on the forehead,
and i fell to my knees.

the diamonds spilled from my open mouth -
the diamonds spilled from the corners of my eyes -
the diamonds spilled from the fatal wound in my chest.

i don't know where the crystals came from -
but i think they must have come from you.
you kissed me on the lips,
and caused these little stars to be cut out from inside of me.

it burns so much -
but -
it feels like i am being cleaned from within.

he calls me on the phone,
says he's leaving in a few days.

what's new?

the tears that threaten to escape me aren't new,
my clenched fist isn't new,
my picked, bleeding lower lip isn't new.

you've always left me, dad.
even when you said you were coming back,
even when you said it wouldn't be for too long,
even when you said you loved me more than anything.

your actions betray your words -
the silver shavings in your hair betray the test of time -
the wrinkles around your eyes betray the man i used to take you for.

i hate this time of year -
because all i want to do is hold your face in my hands -
and feel the skin that belongs to me -
and look into the brown eyes that belong to you -
and i want to tell you -
how much, how much, how much i love you.

how much i love you -
despite the hurt -
despite your absence -
despite you being a man that doesn't know he has a child that loves him so much.

i still love you, dad. i'll be waiting for you to come home.

black roses wilted on an indented bed,
a sheen of sweat on the back of your neck,
a frayed photograph on the empty wall.

there's a strange sound coming from outside my window -
is it the wind or is it, is it me?
trying to get back in, trying to return -
begging to be invited back into its heavy body.

i'm not scared easily,
but i was scared the day you left.
i'm not scared easily,
but i was scared the day you returned.

a flash of light outside my window -
a growl of thunder that demands your attention even while dreaming -
i think it's beginning to rain.

did i mention that it rained on the day you came back?
i'm scared now.
it might be time to get the roses off my bed.

tell me where to go
because wandering is what i know
tell me where to stay
because leaving keeps a light on inside of me

tell me what to do
because i've been laying in this bed for days
tell me what to be
because i believe this woman in the mirror is the one who won the part

tell me, tell me, tell me
won't you show me the way?

The world will burn -
our eyes will close,
and our lips will forget each other's names.

Every lover's whisper has been lost to the wind -
every sweetheart's kiss has been long forgotten.
Isn't that the saddest thing you've ever heard?

Why should I tell you my name when you'll forget it?
Why should I whisper secrets to you when they'll become lost in all of the noise?
Why should I kiss you when even my touch isn't permanent?

I remember you -
sitting at the edge of my bed, staring at the floor.

I remember you -
stroking my hand, thinking about something deep.

You didn't know I was awake,
and when I uttered your name,
a drop of crystal spilling from my cracked lips -
you were startled.

You fell to the floor and I reached out for you -
please, come back to me again. Caress my skin again. Look at me again.

You stared with big, black eyes -
and hissed at me -
and my heart submissively crawled back into a dark place.

I'm sorry, I tried to say.
But you bared your teeth at me -
snarled a lip that used to be so tender -
and left me once again.

Not for the first time.

Over the years, I've had a reoccurring dream that makes me startle awake in the middle of the night -
that makes my heart pound faster than the beat of a Shaman's drum.

In my dream, I am underwater.
I've never been a particularly good swimmer in life, but in my dream, I float effortlessly under dark waves. Everything is dark, perhaps it's nighttime above the surface.
Most of all, I am scared.

Wherever I turn my head, I see nothing but darkness. I look down and see an abyss. I look up and see the possibility of escaping, but my heavy body can't move.
I'm suspended in space - looking to my left and my right, extremely aware that something is coming and I cannot see it.

I don't know what it is but I am deeply afraid. I can't get away, can't swim to the surface, and cannot see anything. It's getting closer.
It's going to devour me whole.

And when I'm almost to the brink of insanity because of my fear, I suddenly realize that I can't breathe -
I've been in this godforsaken water for so long that my lungs have begun to strain from oxygen's absence.

What can I do?
I have nowhere to go, no way to breathe. The hidden danger is coming closer, possibly circling somewhere beneath me, and everything is getting darker. I'm tired. It's as if exhaustion is pulling me down further, whispering to me that it's okay if I want to fall asleep.

I want to fall asleep, I really do -
maybe it would be a better fate than the one I would be faced with if I were to stay awake and deal with the monster that's lurking in the darkness.
Just fall asleep, leave what's unimportant behind -
you'll finally have some peace and quiet, won't you?

Either way, I'm faced with an inevitable choice.
And in my dream, I choose to leave it behind -
I hesitantly open my mouth and begin to choke and sputter when water fills my lungs and burns, burns, burns me up to the brim.

I am burning, burning, burning from the inside out - tears would be streaming my face if the ocean hadn't decided to steal them away and tuck them into its pocket for safekeeping.

I guess this is death, but all I know is that I am grateful -
my eyes close against my own accord -
and I never have to see the terrifying thing that wanted me as its prey.

I feel saved -
except when I wake up and my pillow really is soaked with tears, and I still cannot breathe properly, and my heart feels as if it's burning up, and I am still surrounded by darkness.
Nobody wins - especially you.