When I look back at the things I had
The things that now are gone
I was planting seeds of division
But the trees grew tall and strong

I used to see for miles around
But now the forest grows
Beneath the shade of branches
Are secrets no one knows

At first it was a place to hide
An oasis on barren lands
But holding on to a past that's gone
Was just leaving time on my hands

For years I must have wandered
Abandoning all that was good
I thought I knew my way out
But now I'm lost in the woods

A milk udder lure between her thigh
though her chanty where bin nigh
as day her ungulate would stack
their jugs full in this wooden shack
while shop worn gloves did amount
a shine must replete but always count
only first total inside their raw clement.

So now I've got this feeling that,
   I'm so much more than free;
It's almost like there's something now
   that's got a grip on me!

It makes me glad to wake each day,
   to see your gorgeous face;
To feel you in my arms at night,
   so close, your sacred place.

To feel your warm and tender touch,
   to hear you call my name;
Means so much more than anything,
   yes, massive wealth or fame!

You see my heart has finally found
    the fullest beauty of;
The feeling that makes dreams come true,
    this feeling of your love!

Swollen eyes of sleep depreieve
With giant black bags underneath
Bright red cheeks huff and puff
Raggedly pained air that I breathe

Tear stains appear on my pillow each night
In dozens of crosshatched lines
But I drudge out of bed to wash them away
So that nobody knows they were mine

From here on out- I refuse to sleep
to be forced into nightmares again
Coffee and lights as my main support
Why should I worry my friends?

I have come to realize
on this very first of a stormy winter night,
shivering alone at my stacked desk,
that our relationship is a childish defense mechanism.

We fool around, curse each other out.
We share secrets like no two best friends ever do.
We sing our soulless hearts out to rock bands
with suicidal guitarists, comfortably evading our feelings.

"What a childish defense mechanism!" I hear myself say.
I never once wrote poetry for you
for fear it might elope into something out of control.
I was not ready for that. I am not still.
And I'm yet unsure I ever will be.

But ******, I just had to get it down on paper for once.
And I detest being stuck in this hazy, grayish aura
of it never being truly white, but not really black either.

And my thoughts are mimicking the weather tonight,
cloudy and thunderous, yet utterly breathtaking.
I think I might love you one day just as much as I love winter.

It's like a cycle.
He enters at the rate,
any new-comer would.
Charming.
Gentle.
Fast as that autumn breeze,
he illustrates a whirl in your mind.
Your life.
You depic beauty in his eyes.
Autumn bursts into a heavy fall.
Face first,
and he is no where.
Your eyes weather.
They bring heavy rain.

It's like a cycle.

A hope,
a glimmer,
is upon the iced winter.
The air crisp as a sweet apple.
A stable environment,
happiness birthed each day.
All stood at a pause,
but a warmth seemed to be inching.
Suttle and simple
Beauty had arisen,
in oranges, pinks, and blues.
Spring.
You were being educated,
in what was once,
the love of autumn.
Warmth.
Compassion.
Greater and unwilling to harm...
An unjust statement.
A drizzle,
and he vanished.

It's like a cycle.

A blazing sunshine.
A clear sky.
A past to be forgotten.
The grass healthy,
as footprints were laid upon it.
Laughter is where it was chosen to be.
A memory,
never to be forgotten.
Not a change in the air,
but a slight breeze.
It was over.
Beauty was freshly created.
Life was returned in your eyes...
But you had failed to visualize,
a season,
once born,
must die,
and must return once more.
In a silent twilight,
he brings another autumn.

It is a cycle.