If I come to you once in the silence of morning
as the sunlight weaves strands of wild fire through my hair
will I taste on your breath a new love slowly dawning
will your eyes be enraptured on finding me there.

Will you hold out your arms, will your soul sweetly beckon
as lightly my kisses your passion will find
sweet petals bloom scarlet in rapturous welcome
as ivory flesh with yours softly combines.

Then I will return to the arms of another
and all will be lost in the passing of time
aside from the fate that our
hearts must now suffer,
nevermore to be yours, nevermore to be mine.

The tide charged in deeply, taking all that was never there for the asking.
Desecrated sanctity let flow scarlet rivers while the moon tied her tongue and the sand dried her tears.
A heaven of weeping constellations dimmed as she rose, this shaken child, silent and mourning, her innocence torn and bloodied by this fierce current that knew not her name.
She wept a tear of farewell, her eyes faded in acceptance of a fate once warned. Stumbling, ragged, once hallowed now hollow, she dared not ask why of the moonlit wind as it blew her homeward, to be forever the keeper of secrets.

I wish I could tell you all the things that make me small and cloud my vision with too much dark. I long to tear the words from my throat, to cast light onto the syllables that cause my heart to flounder.


I have cried a million tears since the day of my passing, none of which have begun to erode the stone in which my fears are set. They are chiseled too deeply into the lonely tomb that holds my sometime smile.


I wish I could tell you of all the things that make me small, I wish I could share my darkest dreaming and not fear the cloud of judgement that will settle upon your brow as it steals my breath and breaks my heart.


I can only love you and hope that it's enough.

This dark is filled with ghosts.

Teaming fingers, bone cold with the agony of sorrow brush my brow, willing me to mourn, to cease to be within this beating form and join the shadows that beckon.
I chase oblivion down to the bottom of the nearest bottle and beyond, my smile a painted scar that masks the ugliness within, as numbness creeps silently into the corners of my soul.

I will not belong within the hearts of the living.
I will not be long at all.

Here's to the misfits, the losers, the freaks the eternally picked on, the hapless, the weak,
to time spent with textbooks and not on the streets.
It may not be now but someday we will rule
we'll be CEO's, Queens of all, Kings of cool
with cash in the bank and prospects galore
because we understood what high school is for!