When you left, you took with you my ability to move,
My ability to breathe, my ability to speak.
You stole my muscles and my bones,
My senses and my desires.
I can no longer taste your lips on mine,
Or smell your shampoo on my pillow.
I can no longer hear your voice calling my name,
See your smile, nor feel your hands wrapped around my waist.
All that is left for me to feel is the crushing blanket of loneliness,
A knit wool too warm to cuddle with under the covers,
Too heavy to hold to my chest to give it freedom to rise and fall.
My body is numb, my brain is numb, my heart is numb.
I can feel the darkness of the vast and empty night sky above me,
Slowly lowering down to Earth, directly to my empty bed,
And for a single moment, I want to feel like the universe is safe,
Like it isn’t about to crush me and my heart isn’t about to explode.
For I am left without shield, you, my warrior, my one-man army,
And I am immobilized and unprotected,
And there is no way in hell I can win the next World War against myself.
Escape is my only option to divert the attention from my hiding place,
To prevent the enemy of me from further destroying my soul and consuming my body.
So if I’m lost, please don’t find me, and if I jump, please let me sink,
For darkness has fallen on this sunlit winter day,
And the sweet crescent moon no longer casts a light on my pillow,
Leaving only shadows of Heaven in the darkness.

I gave you my attention
and you took it
like fame

I gave you my love
and you took it
like medication

I gave you my everything
and you took it
like nothing

I gave you myself
but I can’t say you took it
because you never did

Darling, you don’t love me
like I love you
and I blame it on the past

I’m never taking history again.

Depression,
Sadness; gloom; dejection.
Depression cannot particularly be described in words.
With depression you're suffering,
And suffocating.
Its like you're a fish,
In a bag,
With holes in it,
And all the water is slowly draining out,
Waiting for your life to go with the water out of the holes.
Its like you're in a cage,
On display.
You have to smile,
And put on a show,
But its all an act,
And you're dying inside.
Depression is also where you cant move.
You're laying in bed,
And you physically cant get up,
Because all your energy is going into breathing.
This is what depression is.

There’s a strong urgency in *******.
The longing for there to be another human body
pressed up against your own, so much so you envision
it vividly in your mind, painting hundreds of
thousands of scenarios until you find one just right
for your hand,

for your body.

It's not about pleasure, but about that momentary loss of place and time,
a further commitment to your imagination but
to your loneliness as well.

For only a few seconds
He was stood outside
Next to where she waited
In the heart of the moonlight,
Peeling back her unknown promises
Behind the hiss
Of a stuttering train
In a mystery of bleached hair,

And bright red lipstick
Tangled up in each others footsteps
On a uneven texture
In the mist
Before tossing her cigarette
Back into the
Middle of the river,

And with it
The last remaining evidence
Of the crime
They’d just committed
In black and white.

(Previously published at http://www.staxtes.com/2013/10/andy-n-of-stuttering-train-poetry.html)

Roses are red
Violets are blue
They both die in the end.