I’m sorry that you
have to carry around
that key to my heart,
that **** rusted thing,
not knowing what it unlocked.
I’m sorry that we may never meet
or that you may never unshackle me
from these heavy chains.
This is not your burden,
only mine to carry.
So treat this key
As a mystery, as a treasure
from me to you.
Let it hang around your neck
Or under your pillow
and remember that someday
somewhere is waiting to be unlocked;
a treasure for the ages.
Remember not to worry;
this story doesn’t need
a happy ending
or an ending at all.

You are a novel
gathering dust on my shelf
but not because I don’t want to read
but because I’m afraid
to turn the page,
afraid of how you’ll end

Silence,

In the mind

Is what he strives for-
Ushering sweet shushings
Destined to fall-

Desperately,

Hopelessly,

On deaf membranes-
Eardrums cluttered
And cloistered
By juggling run rampart-
Amuk.

The color of blood
Seeps down his forhead-
Sweatdrops glistening
Their crimson beauty-
Reminders that his sight
Is still unseen-

Cataracts unsheathed
Beneath Winter's chilling kiss
Of endless doubt and drought.

The frozen beauty captivates,
Encapsulates his mind,
And all his eyes roll back,

And his hands are useless.

Aimless,

She sits sequestered horizontally
Against currents of mindless winds-

Her apathy uncontested
By neither man nor wicked thing.

Flightless,

She flutters hopelessly
On glass wings,

Helplessly

Frail

Are the fragile little things
That hold her head up
Above the towering sea chains-

Her lungs' heavy breaths
Dull her spirit's grin

And all her numbered days
Tick away without a sound-

Engulfed by the ocean's deep breath-

Beneath insanity's serenity-

She drowns.

His body fell to the ground and his pulse slowed to a stop and the colors of life in his eyes drained to grey and the last bit of air exited his lungs and he laid there motionless and silent and his chest opened as if his ribs had been cabinet doors and his heart floated up into the sky and into the night and through space and back and forth through time and it was alone in the vast emptiness of it all and with all its scars and stitches and broken and missing pieces it hummed and it beat and it remembered...

it remembered the name in every stitch and every smile that had stolen and kept a piece of it and every heartache in the story of every scar and every love that had ever made it laugh and sing and dance and fly and it remembered all the joy and misery and failure and wonder and everything that had made its life worth living and somewhere inside it smiled