I am tired of waiting for December
with her white teeth and prolonged visions of lace veils
to get dressed
put her makeup on  
before taking the long road back to me
weary of her indirection
as if she can't remember the short way
as if she wouldn't drive 200 miles
guilt heavy in the trunk of her car
for being so far away
just to steer clear of me
because you can't build a fire
in the middle of an ice storm,
or her cold shoulder all the same.
There is no use in laying in the sun
when the possibility to thaw
is below 0.
I am tired of missing December
each time January melts away.

My words are ignorant and invalid
Such as my life I flee from my self
I weep and cry but I know that I
Can never forgive my self
For that pain I have brought
Like snow fall cold and plentyful.

One script a day keeps the evil away

One by one you’ve shown me,
The demons, of your mind,
Scars that they’ve left you,
And past specters hanging by.

You point to them and shudder,
Hug yourself and cry,
To quickly wipe away the tears,
To take my hand, and bring me, anywhere but here.

Through grey waste and hell-scape peaks,
To quaint and pretty things,
Shiny baubles in a broken land,
To stare at, and lock the mind away.

You stare downwards at the Earth,
Turning something in your hand,
I reach out and brush your face,
You glance up, by God, those brilliant eyes.

I take your chin and guide it up,
Too long you’ve viewed the floor,
Now gaze upon endless, starry night,
Look up, twinkling, hope is there.

Under gleaming angel night,
Darkness dares not tread,
Here your inner true self glows,
And your beauty ethereal, sublime.

Still I hold you close to me,
For fear lingers in the mind,
But, as ever, I gesture to the sky,
Watch with me, soon shall be, the glorious sunrise.