Death told her
           her life should end
and he was her friend

Calmly, she stole my gun
     she walked outside in the sun
pulled the trigger, set the mood
barrel to her head to conclude

I saw her head come undone
,,, Reached down, for my gun
Eyed the chunks in her hair
Now to my head |
                               |I draw a rose there.

My lover asks me:
"What is the difference between me and the sky?"
The difference, my love,
Is that when you laugh,
I forget about the sky.

I looked at you and you looked back at me,
but all I could see was the love we once shared
slowly dying.

In the beginning everything was great.
Until I made that fatal mistake.
Now nothing between us will ever be the same.
My heart is cracking into a million pieces.


Yes, I know that it was all my fault,
but it does not change the pain I feel.
The pain I feel when you cannot stand to look at me.
The pain I feel when you cannot stand to touch me.

Please tell me what I can do to make this right.
I would give my very life if that were what it would take.
I have made many mistakes,  
but being foolish enough to let you slip away is one I cannot make.

Without you my life would be meaningless.
No longer will I have a reason to wake.
If you tell me that your love for me has died my heart will cease to beat.

I looked at you, but your back is all that is facing me.
All your attention is lost in another direction.
In this moment I realized your eternal answer.
With that my heart froze into a crystal of ice and shattered to pieces.
My skin became hard, pale, and cold.
I turned and walked away
never to look back again.

In the beginning everything was great.
Until I made that fatal mistake.
Now nothing between us will ever be the same.

I am decembers darkest hour
a withered lover, a withered flower
a heart broken, blackened in two
a half for me, and a half for you
I am the forgotten love, you desired
the pouring rain, and muffled fire
the love you lost, the deepening hate
a bitter taste, this predesitined fate
desire not
desire now
desire not
desire how
I am the knowledge of the love you lost
happiness sacrificed upon the cross
blink the poisonous tears from your eyes
an acidic face of untold lies
feel the turture deep inside
where coldness spreads, and warmth died
desire not
desire now
desire not
desire how?

numb shaking fingers
limbs curled tight into fragile ribs
on a sheeted bed without a blanket
blue icy diamonds closing one last time
from the world
and an exhale
wet watered cheeks
a little shudder
a peaceful                    sigh
                      terrified

this is how I imagine you dying
alone
way too far away from me

Stop me if you've heard this one before.
Guy meets Girl.
Girl meets Guy.
And even though
They both know
That she's waaaaaay out of his league?
She still says, "Yeah, I'd love to go to dinner sometime."
And he asks, "With me?"

And that's how it starts.
That's the moment when their two hearts
Brush by each other so close
They can taste each other's nerves.

Maybe they go to dinner.
Maybe they don't.
Maybe they go sing karaoke
And go to theme parks
And sit down by the river on the floating dock
Bare inches above the chilly water.
Or maybe
Nothing happens.

Maybe the guy realizes that he's too lucky
And he doesn't know why
So he gets kinda shy,
And he does that thing that he does to all his relationships.
He lets it die.
He lets this one get away,
Like he has with so many others
When he's run out of words to say
That sound like what people these days want to hear.
He takes his true voice and smothers it
Beneath layers of what he thinks
Is appropriate.

Now, inside?
He's screaming,
His head thrown back to the moon,
Trying to convey words meaning something
Far more powerful than he could ever say
Out loud.
He wants to take her face in his hands and tell her,
"You remind me of those days, those days, those hazy days of summer,
When a gust yanks your kite's string from your hands
And takes your aerial octopus on a whirling waltz on the wind."
He wants to kiss her neck and whisper,
"When I met you, it reminded me of how it feels to be eating an ice-cream cone,
Then dropping your ice-cream on the hot pavement,
And you feel that the world is coming to an end,
But then
The ice-cream man hands you another cone.
This time with two scoops."

And he, for his part, would mean every word,
But so unlike the caged bird,
This little boy playing at being a man
Doesn't sing.
He lets those lines of poetry and prose
Sink back into him.
Unsaid. Unheard. Unfelt.

And the Girl, for her part, does nothing wrong.
She doesn't have any idea that his silent song
Even exists.
She just sees a guy,
Who is waaaaaay under her league,
Trying in vain to hold her interest.
So she gets bored,
And who can blame her?
And our guy?
He doesn't say a thing.

So this is for all the ones that got away.
For all the women that I have, in my day,
Let slide by me without hearing a thing that I wanted to say.
This is me saying, "I'm sorry."
This is me saying, "I wish I had said all those words to you.
That I hadn't been so ****** shy,
But I didn't and I was, and this is why
I'm making a vow.
Right here. Right now.
To never let this happen again.
It's time to let my immortal mouth run rampant
So that when I meet the next Girl That Got Away,
I can say,
"Hey. I know that I'm an odd guy,
And you probably can't think of a good reason why
On earth you should ever even consider
The prospect of one friendly dinner
With me, but let me tell you...
I'm great in bed."

And then, when that doesn't work,
And she, understandably, calls me a ****,
Then I can say,
"Wait. You misread my meaning.
I don't mean I'll leave you moaning.
Well.  
I might.
But that's not my point.
My point is this:
In those moments between when you're awake,
And when you're dreaming,
I'll be right next to you, speaking
Softly as a butterfly's wings
All the things about you I love.
I'll be singing every one of your favorite songs,
And giving sound to your favorite flavor of ice cream.
I will send you off into your dream
Wrapped in a beautiful, bountiful, blanket of words,
And as the night closes in and curls around the both of us
Like a lost lover's arms,
I'll tell you all the things I wish I had said.
I'll tell you all the things I want to say
To you, The One That Didn't Get Away."

The pain
just doesn't go away,
seems we have to
deal with Charlie everyday.
So many triggers,
in our heads that make us
wonder if,
we would be better off dead.

We live from
day to day,
some hour to hour,
wondering what to say
to those who just can't
understand the pain
and sorrow that we feel,
as a combat Veteran.

We are a band of brothers
who stepped up, stood up proud,
and went to War
for a Country we loved,
only to return to a Country
full of hate and disrespect.

Vietnam Veterans
continue to take their own lives
daily, some 40 years later
because some are tired
of fighting the War in their heads,
and fighting for help,
from a Gov't
that doesn't seem to care.
We are tired of asking for respect,
because we stood up for your freedom.

We still wait for just
for one sincere "thank you",
or a true "wellcome home",
that we never got,
better late than  never for some,
just a little too late
for me and many others.

Some 58,000
gave their all, most
still in their youth but
old enough to die,
for a War that was just a big lie,
and all they got was
their name on a Wall.

Those of us who survived
still fight the triggers in our heads,
and try to help those brothers
who would rather be dead,
those fellow warriors
with so much pain
that they feel as if
they have nothing to gain.

Self respect takes away
some of that pain,
but we have to heal
from the inside first.

But for now
we heal at the Wall
and touch our brothers
and friends who gave it all,
those who dared to
stand tall
for your  freedom.             Jon York