Where once we thought we owned the world and forever was our playground,
Tomorrow, The light of our two souls merging into one...

WE WERE WRONG!!!

You have gone, My heart has lost your echo
Death the thief,
That stole this Poets' words
Silence once again reigns in my world...
The heavens cry out for me,
For the loss of you left me mute...

Memories fade, As the stars lose their twinkle,
One by one they fade into the dark,
The dark that binds tear-stained eyes
Takes away all life colors.

Struck dumb and blind, I'm left to travel, on lifes' road alone
The worlds last cruel joke,
To leave me alone and loveless...

But Revenge will be sweet as I stumble
Too my last horizon,
God will be there....
To open my eyes, and I
Can once again stare into yours
and
Know that I am finally home,
My voice returned,
To tell you

Through all these years...
I Never once stopped Loving You!!!

the scars that line your wrists remind me of
fallen paper planes, like you
tried so hard to make it perfect, to
make it go places, to make it wonder
through hills but instead it went crashing down like
your tears midway, like it thought it was hopeless
you thought you were hopeless because all
the other planes had engines and
they were battery operated from the start,
so statuesque so perfect
they were trained from the start to stand tall,
****** in stomachs, labored breathing and it
hurts so much but it doesn't matter because they
were pretty, the best of the best
and you were just left in the dirt, stuck in the mud
like a fallen paper plane so you gave yourself
paper cuts because you thought you deserved it, you thought
that they were right, that everybody else was just born better than
you; they must've received some sort of memo
that you didn't because god it feels like that,
it feels like a bitter desperation and a lonely hatred all
at once because some part of you hates their beach blonde hair
and magazine worthy body
but the worst part is not watching them receive praise
and lead the life you can only dream about, no,  
the worst part is knowing that no matter what
you will never be able to compare to them because
you are a fallen paper plane, filthy from the dirt you had fallen
in, scarred from the thoughts you can't turn off, and hopeless;
already too old to know better than false naivety

what they never tell you however,
is how easy it is to rebuild a paper
plane and how all batteries will expire
and one day, that certain shade of beach blond hair
will become discontinued and that
life goes on until it decides to stop  

(h.l.)

Winter starlight sky
I see it through the window
Of my snug bedroom.

{ Weasel }