I lay
still on my uncovered
mattress, the bottom
sheet has been somehow
lost in the
abyss of my blanketed
hideaway

The tree
branches broken, their
remains still sway
another lonely night
another bitter,
cold day awaits.

Goosebumps scatter
themselves amongst my
arms and I cannot
stop the clattering of
teeth. Programmed,
trained to be sustained throughout
life, I'm a puppeteers
finest masterpiece.

I dream,
I sew clovers together
in hopes to find
dumb luck
But the vines, in disguise
with a mind of their own
grow to imprison me
caged, stuck

*****.

I'm so glad you love me
                                                                        for who I am

                                  no make up

                                                          hair a mess
                         & freshly awake


                                              and you still find
                                                        the words I've always
                                             wanted to hear..

                                      "You're still beautiful to me"

For such a basic desire


                                                                           is not found so simply

I search
                                      for the words

                                                          ­                     I
wrote on my hips;

                                              but
                                                                ­              not another word,

                  left my frozen lips.

                                                          ­                      There is no way to
                                                                ­      springtime,

        the winter,
                   takes her tole.

                                                               ­       I bury myself away,
                                                         in this 3 pillow,
                                           double bedded hole.

Darling, but I keep myself sane.
               I dream of flowers in my hair & the warmth in your name.
    Early July conversations,
                        tapping strings, how we'd softly sing
                                           & were guided to one another's lips
      at the very touch of our finger tips.
                               I always thought I was better than this,
                                                                                                 but
                                                             ­            Love,
                                                                ­              
                                     Your heart is one I often miss.

I DREAMED that one had died in a strange place
Near no accustomed hand,
And they had nailed the boards above her face,
The peasants of that land,
Wondering to lay her in that solitude,
And raised above her mound
A cross they had made out of two bits of wood,
And planted cypress round;
And left her to the indifferent stars above
Until I carved these words:
She was more beautiful than thy first love,
But now lies under boards.

come close




                                                                  lay next to me


I need to feel





                                                                     important


So, stay close






                                                                     remain next to me







                                                                                                                              I need to feel




    important.



                                                      Holding all





                                                                                                  the weight in my life



then you turn and you walk away from me

You are the sand that I hold
        
              for mere seconds before it
                   
                               slowly spills through
                                     
                                                 the cracks between
                                                        
                                                                    my fingers.
                                                        ­                             
                                   ­                                                                 ­    Leaving me with but microscopic granules,

insignificant nothings.

                                                               ­                  You are the white crested waves crashing upon the shore

warming my toes for only seconds in the

                                                                ­                                                                 ­                            damp sand.

You recede, to the deeper blue, leaving my toes too chilled to move.


                                                         ­                                            I can be your sunset, if you be my silhouette

imitate my morning light within the sky

                                                            ­               in your brilliant mind remind yourself, the sun is also a star.

I feel with each passing day, my flame slowly dies.

Some days are easier than others,
Some days I forget,
Some days I’m numbed and way too ******,
Even alone,
To feel those pangs of regret.
And some days aren’t even days,
But small intervals of merciful distraction
Amongst the somber haze of blue—
It’s only but a fraction of the solace I want,
Of the love that we shared,
All the affection I gave to you—
Though I know you still care,
Since you haven’t cut me out entirely,
And neither I with you;
I’m hoping that you’re still hoping,
And I’m wishing that I can prove it—
That one day, I’ll belong to you.