Warm me up with your breath
The frost of winter destroys my soul
My inner fire is bright and strong
It’s not enough

My heart grows restless for him
missing his caress
and false saccharine words
singing his song was a melancholy old tune
I had known oh so well
Kisses I had felt
still pressed to my lips
Hands had held me
still comfort me in their ghosts
Nothing left to deny
Warm brown eyes
never to look at me again
Blond hair
never for my touch again
restless I feel,
missing him and his old hurt
stuck in my dreams of him
and his smile
I'm restless,
Addiction doesn't go away somehow

With pursed lips stained with cherry red lipstick she stood in front of her mirror and cried a little harder with each breath.
Why can't she be perfect?
Why can't she fall back in love?
Why can't she just ask for help again?
Watching herself in that mirror she saw her reflection... Makeup running down her face, and a cry for help only she saw each day...
Why couldn't she rewind?
Why couldn't she just take it all back?
Why was she so afraid the change and start new?
Today was the day she said with one shaky breath.... Today she would stop the self hatred and the tears.

She stopped asking why.
She stopped trying to rewind.
She stopped trying to be someone she wasn't anymore....

on long winter nights
your eyes eventually
get used
to the darkness

(it's simply biology);

I got used to a life without you
in a similar way, but

I'll never stop missing the light.

i know i'm in deep
when thinking of you
feels like
thinking of me.

My wife, a psychiatrist, sleeps
through my reading and writing in bed,
the half-whispered lines,
manuscripts piled between us,

but in the deep part of night
when her beeper sounds
she bolts awake to return the page
of a patient afraid he'll **** himself.

She sits in her robe in the kitchen,
listening to the anguished voice
on the phone. She becomes
the vessel that contains his fear,

someone he can trust to tell
things I would tell to a poem.

11/24/2013

I envy the
teacups,
that get to
touch your lips

I envy the
blankets,
that get to
touch your skin,
and keep you
warm

I envy your
bedroom walls,
which have seen you
smile,
and laugh,
and cry,
and sweat

I envy the
computer screen,
that gets to
stare at you
for hours
on end

I envy your
hair brush,
which is allowed
to run through
your hair,
like I wish
my fingers could

I envy
the stars,
which you look up to,
and talk to
when things get bad

I envy the
water,
that gets to
run along your spine,
and collarbones,
when you take
a shower

I envy the
stuffed animal,
that you sleep
next to
every night,
for I wish
it was me
instead

and I envy
everyone
that you talk
to,
for I wish
I could talk to you
instead

I envy
everyone,
and everything,
that gets to
touch you,
and look at you,
and listen to you,
for I can not
be there to
touch,
or look,
or listen

I am only
hundreds of miles
away

but I hope,
I wish,
I *pray,
that someday
I will replace
that teacup,
or those blankets,
or your bedroom walls,
or your computer screen,
or your hair brush,
or the stars,
or the water in the shower,
or your stuffed animal,
or everyone,
that gets to
touch you,
look at you,
and listen to you,
if only just
for a minute

© 2013 Chloe Perkins

And still
My throat is clenched
And my breathing gets
All too heavy
To the point where
The sound of each
Inhale
And exhale
Echoes in my head
As though
Every other noise
In the room
Has been swallowed up
And my fingers
Start to perspire
With anxiety
Seeping out of each pour
You still have the power
To make me get this
Lightheaded
Dizzy
Nervous
Exhilarating feeling
And make every
Potential word you will say
Get caught up in my throat
And I cling onto it all
With the only justification
I seem to be able to come up with
The only feasible explanation
For this
Occasional momentary insanity
Is that
You were the first.