I'm waiting
It's this girl you see
Just one particular person
She's just very special to me

She mostly dresses in black
I think it's because of her past
And though she hides it well
Looking hard enough sees emotional cracks

Her eyes glow like diamonds
And her hair like brown wind-blown silk
However, her personality really hooked me
Just quiet, contented to be

She doesn't talk a whole lot
Not to me anyways
She just keeps a close circle of friends
And pushes me out of the way

I've tried talking to her
Several times now, but each time it's the same
Something about trust and differences
Then she just turns and walks away

So here I am waiting
It's seemed long now
Weeks to months turn years
Waiting for the girl in black

Is it worth the wait you might ask?
If I told myself no I'd be lying
For waiting is all that's left
So I'll continue to hope undying

i'm a broken compass and a delayed train and a set of faded curtains that don't quite keep the sun out and the glare they make in your eyes, but i love you in ways i don't know how to say.

so you can spill your guts to me and i'll clean them up with rags made of "sorry's" and that won't make it better but at least i'll have tried. i made this mess.

you are gasping for the air that i took from your lungs and my betrayal-bruised hands are much too slow to fill them at the same time i'm trying to patch up the holes.

eventually we lay together in a swallowing and somber silence, too many ******* miles apart, until i break it in half with not-good-enough words that serve as my version of an apology.

but i swear that i will shatter every bone in my legs before i run from you when you need me most and curse at the doubt that plagues my mind like black death.

i will shake my fists and scream obscenities at the uncertainties and banish every "what if" that begs access to my consciousness.

i will slit the throat of yesterday, and watch it bleed out - know you're more than enough for me, and hate myself for the pills in your body.

for you, you, are more than oxygen and no amount of salted regret that pours from my eyes could ever convey the thoughts my lips can't seem to form.

so i am shrunk to a pitiful half-whisper, muttering over and over and over and over, "i'm right here. i'm right here." and somehow we manage to be okay.

- m.f.

Eyes veiled and full of misconceptions
I've been tested in the wake of expectation
Mass produced humiliation
Induced to become reclusive and stricken
A great appreciator of silence
Resilient and resistant
as I ponder my own completion and reliance
I shy my eyes from the broadcast and bypass the heart
that only beats and tracks superficial consummation
With such a great fear of sedation and the props preserved for consumption
Contemplating my voice in constant wonder if I will be beaten for seething over
the strange structure that kills spirit
I digress and rest at ease convinced I am blessed for I can see