Love in her heart
Pain in her eyes
And shaken hands…
Her stomach flips, her chest heaves, and then the roll of heavy tears
Stream down her face, cold and slipping away…
The pain exceeded all the calm within her soul
And swallowed her whole
It hit her harder than any bat, chain or rhythm
She was alone
And now she must stay afloat on her own

Everything is blue.
Sometimes, it is blue for you
like the tongue of the sea
or the Pacific
when the sun
drools upon it.

Other times - electric.
A bright, gaudy blue
nobody can miss
as the vibrant shade of the sky
or turquoise
in your teeth.

I remember when you longed
for blue, the darkest tones.
Your mood was deep blue
like the deep red of blood,
the colour of evening,
impending midnight.

You made everything ice,
the trees, the grass,
your digits chilled baby blue.
I offered you gloves
but you knocked them
from my hands.

Then, for a moment,
a pinprick of green.

Green was a gem.
Green was a rarity
like a white Christmas.
I told you to chase,
to run after it
but the blue held you back.

I said 'how are you today?'
Never yellow, never orange,
you spoke blue,
spat sapphires,
every object, item
glazed over azure.

I wanted you green.
Avocado, mint, emerald green
but it never stayed long.
Blue waves would come
and gulp
your good food.

Now you flit between them,
cellophane
dancing behind your eyes.
One day, drowned in blue,
one day, swimming
green.

You asked me where
My home was and
I explained to you that rainy night
That my home wasn't a place but
A time in my life
When hope was around
Faith still here
The gun wasn't loaded
And I wasn't filled with fear

Here she comes walking
The silent steps that hover on egg shells
Velvet incarnation
Her every word is where my mind dwells
There she goes walking
My body must be made of glass
Her eyes stay set forward
and I shatter with her pass

Where do the dreamless go?
Do they just drift away,
Does the universe just shrug,
As if to say,
Goodbye, John,
...see you a neverday.

Or rather, worse profoundly,
To see them stagnate contently,
in the half-real mundane.

The routine of grey,
and the blue-collar,
quarter-happy grin.

It speaks much louder now,
than in any once lit din,
where your eyes sparkled with dreams,
today long forgotten.

Oh tomorrow is today,
and every day since.
In the minds of the dreamless,
with no goal forth wince.

A cushioned seat high above the earth,
Buzzing with power and bloodlust,
Sits empty once more.
Echoes of a thriving kingdom
Are buried by a din of silence.
When rulers abandon their perches,
Palaces crumble.