Somehow
the sadness connected us
We were alone in the world but
together through the silence in the air
that bred nostalgia and memories
we weren't fond of

I didn't have to see your wrists to know
that the skin had once been kissed
by the blade that all too often
tempted death
I didn't have to

because I had seen it in the way
your eyes fell to the floor when
you spoke my name,

how your voice cracked when
you apologized,

how on the rare occasion that
our eyes met you didn't look away
but you didn't smile either

I didn't need to hear the words to know
what you were saying
You were dying
but not dying at all

and that was the problem
Because you can't will yourself
to make your heart stop beating
even though sometimes
at 3 am you want to

But darling, I don't want you to
Don't go
Please
I need you more than I say

I miss you
And I'm sorry that I don't have some
beautiful and mysteriously depressing way of stringing those words together to make them sound like more than what they are
But I'm so drained without you that
I can barely manage to make
myself function properly
There was a particularly spectacular
sunset tonight and I wonder if you saw it
at the same time I did

I wonder if you thought of me
As I thought of you

When I was sixteen I took up smoking
To remind my lips of your taste
Cigarettes in the mornings and
Cigars in the evening
I watched the sunset change colors
In the reflection of your eyes
And if I could inject that sight into my veins
Or inhale it through my lungs and electrify my brain
I would
But unfortunately
As far as I'm concerned sunsets remain
Unable to be injected and your smile uningested like the drugs that they were
You left me feeling like a fifty year chain smoker whose lips were left forever untouched
by a single cigarette
And I still don't know how that's possible
But I don't want to
So with every inhale I'll breathe you in and push you back out like the poison that you were
And I still don't know where you are, love
Hiding within the constant tides of carbon monoxide
But the sunset doesn't seem so far

I'll see you on the other side

We spent the summer between
old libraries and book stores,
coffee shops and rock concerts
We were rebellious
in a sense that no one else
ever bothered to understand
How freely we would plan
for Eventually
and Some Day
with our feet in the sand
of a shore on some secret beach
somewhere that didn't even exist
And I did my best the resist
the constant urge to kiss you
as you sat shot gun in my car
with all our windows rolled down
And the nights we spent in town
were where I first found that
when you laughed your eyes
told stories of nights spent crying
and I never wanted to buy more time
on a maxed out credit card
than I did right then
It was hard knowing that dying
was becoming less of a verb
and more of an adjective
And I'm so sorry that I couldn't
Bring myself to tell you
Because part of me wanted to
but a bigger part didn't want to let go
of the girl that time
would force me to outgrow

I am in love with a boy
Who was born blind
In his left eye
I had no idea until one day
His grandmother decided
To fill me in
And I almost laughed because
I saw no tell-tale signs
of this affliction
And like a small child
Acting on a prediction
I covered your eye with
My hands and asked,
"So you can't see me?"
Our noses nearly touching
But our souls feeling far
"No," he replied
"But I  don't need to
To know how beautiful you are."

I live in a city where
Once the spring sun finally
Sets back into the April sky
We wear smiles we forgot
That we had

How wonderful it is
To be kissed by the sweet
Sunshine after a cold long-
Distance relationship

Spring brought memories
Of summer
And summer consisted of
Ice cream cones and naps with
The ceiling fan on

It told tales of midnight kisses
And swingset sunrises
Being the first two eyes
To witness the night blue sky
Changing into firey shades
Of red

But it is not summer
       it is not spring

Without you now I live
In a never ending winter
Stuck on replay in december
With bone chilling winds
And blue lips

And oh my god
I miss your finger tips
On my skin and icecream
Cone dips
I cannot bear the silence
of night without your
Heartbeat in my ear

So I still sleep with the
Ceiling fan on to remind me
Of you, dear

“I want John Cusack holding a boombox outside my window.  I wanna ride off on a lawnmower with Patrick Dempsey.  I want Jake from Sixteen Candles waiting outside the church for me.  I want Judd Nelson thrusting his fist into the air because he knows he got me.  Just once I want my life to be like an 80′s movie, preferably one with a… really awesome musical number for no apparent reason.  But no, John Hughes did not direct my life.”

Never being particularly athleticly inclined, I began training myself to be ambidextrous. I decided this way I could write you love letters with my left hand too. And I'm sorry if that seems tragically unromantic but I want to love you with both hands equally. So I'm sorry if the letters are smudged or if it doesn't seem like much but I hope you never hold another girls hand who learned how to write with both for you. And if some day you do, is it true? Do you love her like you say you do? And if one day you find yourself twisted up in some strange girls sheets don't be alarmed when she suddenly shrieks at the poorly printed words along your spine. I wrote you poetry in my sleep instead of keeping time, darling.

i hope sometimes
you remember me
and that i plague
your mind like
a sailboat being
rocked by the sea
i wonder if you
remember that
i love sunsets
and november
and how we
would line the
river with stones
in december
i wonder if you
know that flowers
continue to grow
from underneath
my bones
my love,
i'm still alive for you

At first I didn't believe you were gone
Up until that point death was
about as fictional as once upon
a time
And no one ever actually said the word
Dead
Like it was too hot
not spicy hot

but burning

singeing your lips as you spoke
and if you let it sit there too long
you'd start to think about the smoke
that clouded the impossible
You can't be dead
I was just with you last night
armed with a bottle in my right
hand while my left clutched a bottle of pills
and I watched your lips spill the words
You have so much to live for

And people just look at me
expecting to spout some ******* metaphor
about how death is less like the sunshine
and more like the storm that engulfs you long before you no longer have a pulse

Your mother asked me if you seemed suicidal
And as she screamed when she last saw you
I couldn't bring myself to go about our recital
Where I would shake my head and say
None of this was your fault
But as I looked in the eyes of a mother
who was no longer a mother
I couldn't bring myself to lie

And so I let the silence fill the air like
a thousand butterflies
pressing every square inch of atmosphere
making us all acutely aware about how unfair
it was that we were breathing
And you weren't

I tried not to think about
how much it must have hurt
when your car collapsed in on you
as you made no attempts to skirt
around the blue semi truck
that had no time to try and stop
I bet he couldn't even manage the word
**** before he died
You killed him, too

And I wondered if that was
something that ever occurred to you
                     that you were leaving more
corpses in your wake in your last successful
attempt to take your own life
That your mother hasn't stopped sobbing
and your father hasn't quit asking if there
could have been any stopping you
But I know the truth is
you didn't want us to

I said your name today, out loud
Which is something I haven't been able to
bring myself to do since I found
myself screaming it among the crowd
of people along the highway
They said you died instantly
That nothing prolonged
your suffering and I wondered how
they could have known that

Because they didn't know

that you had been dying all along

One day
You will meet someone who
makes you appreciate the sound
of rain dripping down
your window pane in June
And the way the street lights
make the wet glass look like
the stars in the sky of a
dark summers night

One day
You will meet someone who
will prove to you
that the second best sound
in the world is their laugh
Because first is their heartbeat
And they'll show you that
it's completely possible to
fall apart at the seams
when the rain subsides
and the water on their face
is not from the storm
but their tear stained eyes

One day
You'll meet someone who
will sit with you
by the fireplace sipping
your favorite coffee
Desperately trying not to let
you see his twisted face
Because he hates coffee's taste
But doesn't even care
because he adores the way
your body shifts when he
runs his fingers through your hair
as you rest your
head on his chest

It's true
I know, because one day
I met you

Growing up we were allied with tired
people wearing empty eyes
reserved for those whose breaths
were outnumbered by sighs
And in cased in a body who
knows all too well that beauty
is corresponded with size
Constantly battled by a heart
who would take no part in
giving up when you had yet to even try

I asked you to write poetry
along the curve of my spine
so that when the words finally broke me
I would know how it felt to be paralyzed

I tried

We grew up with these standards set
that seemed near impossible to be met
and when you cried
I said don't
           don't tell me that this world isn't fair
and that this life got the best of you
because the truth of the matter is that
that isn't true
at all
I know
because I got the best of you, too

When we were seven years old
you looked at me grinning and stated
Kissing is weird
And I just laughed because
even back then I hated
the way I sounded after hearing your voice

And in fourth grade
when you were given the choice
to sit next to me,
or that cute new girl named Emily
You chose me
Because, somehow,
the girl who had placed fourth in the spelling bee
and concluded her favorite book was the dictionary
had racked up more brownie
points than the beauty queen

In middle school
we learned that popularity
was based solely on cafeteria seating
and all that seemed to matter was
who you were eating with
at lunch that day

But no one ever bothered to say
hey, I'll save a seat for you

So in grew the miss fits and nobodies
and here we first knew that our value
wasn't worth a saved seat
So we did our best to blend in alone
along the walls and tried our hardest
not to fall when the world slowly came
crumbling in on us
Because in the end all we had
was ourselves among the dust
of the place that we used to be a part of

Used to be

It all used to be so routine
Coffee and cigarettes and
somewhere between
glasses of wine we would find
ourselves curled up on the couch
with our hands intertwined
like two lovers who didn't care
to converse with the presence of time
Because we didn't

Thunderstorms were our thing
And every spring when the rains
would come it never just rained,
                       it poured
I'd pretend  that I was scared so I could explore
the veins on your arms as you held me
and I did my best to absorb
you like the ground soaking in all the rain,
saving it for later days
when the sun was too bright
and the flowers thought there
was no way they could ever survive
But they did

Because even on the hottest of days
the rains would arrive
and revive their stems
restoring the strength they needed
to grow again
I only hoped that someday
I would trace your veins back to my heart

Because loving you was an art
that had no ending towers
and the only place to start
was with a paintbrush in your hand
Ready to paint the flowers
that bloomed when the thunderstorms
shook that vacant tomb
I used to call my heart

But somewhere between
a head start and a late beginning
with life, I found loving you
was  by far the best part

I'm sorry
That I'm sorry
Is all I can manage to say
Because I feel guilty
that I am jealous of
your favorite books
and sleeping blankets
Jealous because I want
to be the only thing
that envelopes you when
your mind is elsewhere

And I'm sorry
that I'm selfish
Because I wish
I was your bathroom mirror
I wish that you looked at me
and expected to see
yourself looking back

But I'm more sorry
that I'm greedy
Because zero clothes between
us still doesn't seem to suffice
in the category of proximity
And if I could find a way
to be closer to you than skin on skin
I am not ashamed to say
that I would

I'm sorry
that this is less of an apology
and more of a proclamation
That I have no viable explanation
as to why I mumble
nonsense in my sleep
saying things like I wish
I was your heartbeat
Because I know that probably
doesn't make much sense to you
at all

So I'm sorry
for being sorry
about things that seem so small

"You're wasting gas,"
you whispered into my neck after
idling in your driveway amongst
the midnight air as our breath
began to fog the glass
"I don't care," I wanted to say,
no, scream because all I knew then
was that it was far past my curfew
and my father would most likely
rip my *** when I got home
but I didn't care
one because I was with you and two
because I found more of a home in your heart sheltered beneath your ribcage and neighbors
with your arteries than I did in his house
Yet I couldn't manage to make my mouth move
Words fell like fireflies dying
on the tip of my tongue as you drew
your fingertips along the surface of
my skin and part of me felt like if this
went on any longer I might explode
Like I was a stick of TNT and every time
you touched me a spark was lit and eventually
my heart would pump itself into amnesia
Leaving you and me and all of our beings
intertwined in it's wake like some twisted
train wreck that led railroad tracks to your lips
And you moved your hands to my hips and all
I could think was that I didn't know it was possible
to fall in love with someone's fingertips and
memorize the way their breathing shifts
when they sleep
And you made me feel like a ship that had been meaning to sink but could never quite
get caught in the right storm
But right now I was sailing through an ocean of torn clothes and warm skin and I couldn't stop myself from thinking that you were an ocean I wouldn't mind drowning in.

As a child I always covered my ears
whenever I started to hear my
parents fighting about whose weekend it was
And I hated that term
Whose weekend it was
Like they owned me

As if I was nothing more than some
quarrelsome barter being habitually swapped between living quarters at the end of every week
Sometimes I wished nothing more than to be
invisable, camouflaged along the wall
of dusty old antiques
Because the only ones you ever saw
fighting over them were old people who smelled
of pastries and lilacs

But I got tired of waiting for that
And I got more tired of the *******
small talk and forced awkward smiles
and when push came to shove,
At eight years old I was tired
of being handled with kid gloves

I grew up feeling like a token of fair trade
And in school I learned that fair trade
really wasn't fair at all
Some were taught to run while others
are forced to crawl to cross the finish line
but even that can't buy you time

Because at the end of the day
I still find myself coming back to that
original thought of the antiques along the
wall of items that nobody bought
And when you see that your only
company is dust and stale air,
life finds another way to remind you
that nothing is fair.

One time
I asked you if we could have a mirror installed on the ceiling above your bed
You laughed and then said,
why would we do that?
I felt only slightly embarrassed as I answered
that I wanted to see you from a third person perspective lying next to me
Because at times it felt almost too good to be true
Like when you say all these things you thought that you knew
And it turns out you never really knew anything at all
Like that it actually is possible to spend the better part of your entire existence trying to identify with the freckles on his back
or attempting to keep all of your sanity intact when you find yourself avalanching in love as you run your fingers along the track of his spine
At which point I pointed out how nice the mirror would be
So at any time I could glance up and see our bodies intertwined like the waves in the sea
And the absolute guarantee that there will always be stars in the sky
Even if you can't see them
The same way that in every goodbye there are words left unsaid and tears that aren't shed for the simple reason that we are all just trying to somehow keep our **** together
And so whether or not there will ever be a mirror above your bed I'm not quite sure
So I suppose, for the time being, my other senses will have to assure me that this will suffice
But that's quite alright
Because the feel of your skin on my hands is more than enough to ignite my own imaginative powers of the beautiful way you must look next to me at night

If I had to define the word love
I guess I would start with the way
after so long has passed two people
are able to converse by means of
squeezing hands or sharing glances
But maybe a better place to begin
would be how for as long as I had
known you, I could count the number
of times I had ever witnessed tears
fall from your eyes on one hand
None of those times including when
your older brother left to go over seas,
or as you held a pole on your
grandfather's casket
But today I watched your eyes fill
with tears as I spoke your name
and told you that I loved you by means
of nonsense metaphors
and ammature poetry
So I guess in the end
it doesn't really matter where i begin
to define the word love
As long as I have you by my side

Constantly,
over and over and over again
I find myself tripping and
breaking my back for people
who would never even think
of doing the same for me

And I realize that life really is
a never resting sea that takes
no mercy at all in beating the
best of people down
Down
Down

But then I look at you,
mid sentence and in full rant
about how none of this is fair
and and I realized you were actually
listening to me
A real live pair of working
human ears listening to me

And I didn't know how
and I didn't know why
but it didn't even matter because
when you kissed me I felt alive
in a way that made me forget
all of the times I had sworn I
wished I was dead

All I knew was that life
wasn't fair but I didn't even care
because it wasn't fair that
you loved me, because I didn't
deserve it, but God ****** I swear
one day I would earn it

You told me I would fall asleep much faster if I would just put my phone down at night
Count backwards from one hundred, maybe
While thinking about little Bo peep counting her sheep
Or a cow leaping over the moon
But what you don't understand is that every night before I fall asleep
I have to look at a picture of you before I close my eyes
And if I open them again
I have to look at another picture
Because I want you to be the last thing that I see every single night before I fall asleep
And if words like these just so happen to be crawling up the back of my throat
Flying through my fingertips dying to be told
Then that they must
Because when our days are all sold and the air has turned cold
I will turn to the page that my brain somehow holds
And shout from the rooftops a love that's too old
And so off I go to sleep
As you count your sheep
And my love for you will not go untold.

Maybe it's even worse
when people compliment my poetry
Saying things like
that was so beautiful, and
you are so talented
Because there is nothing
******* beautiful about ripping
apart your heart and looking
for something, for anything to find
worth not hating
And it takes no talent to sit in solitude
and think and think and think
until the only place for you to
put the words you can't speak is onto
some crumpled up piece of paper
And they wonder why all poets live lives
full of love but more of loss
Living breathing and eventually dying
for someone who burned like the sun
and stung like frost.

For as long as I could remember
Your favorite month was December
You found solace in the solstice and
Snowfall and didn't particularly mind
Rosy cheeks or numb fingers

I had thought it odd that anyone
Could love something so cold and
Destructive and see it not as that -
But as gentle and serene

And I realized this was the very way
That you saw me
And I never questioned how such a warm
Heart could love so many unloved things
Again

Hearing his name pass through her lips was like lighting a quarter stick from both ends and taping it to my chest
And for a moment I remembered that once upon a time you were hers and she was yours
And you shared things like secrets and kisses and even bigger than that - love
And I remembered how one time your heart had beat only for her and my heart didn't beat for anybody because it could barely beat for itself, and suddenly I didn't want to remember anything else ever again

Sticking my nose in places in which it did not rightfully belong had never failed to be a flaw of mine
And along with that came an absurd amount of assumption making and curiosity
Like when I sat at the back of a cluttered classroom looking around at all of the people whose backs were turned to me
And I watched the girl who wore black shirts and ate assorted candies as she feverishly tapped her feet against the floor
Wondering what she was trying to distract herself from remembering
And I looked at the boy who never raised his hand for anything and while role call was being taken was barely audible as he spoke his name
Wondering who it was in his life that made him so unostentatious, and why
I glanced at the girl who sat in the corner of the room, the girl who always came to class with an armada of water bottles, now guzzling a soda pop
Wondering what other old habits she had given into
And then I looked at myself
With this pencil in my hand and all these thoughts in my head that only the insides of my eyelids would have the pleasure of meeting
Wondering if anyone was wondering about me

Falling in love with him was
as easy as collapsing into bed
at night and taking comfort in
all of your own familiar scents

And as routine as waking up
and expecting to see sunshine
peeking in through the cracks
of your blinds

Falling in love with him soon
evolved into finding solace in
his arms and serenity in his graces

And eventually you found yourself
subconsciously reaching for the
warmth of his skin and the
mess of his hair in your sleep

As you began expecting less
and less sunshine in the morning
because you took more comfort
in the knowledge that he would
always be at your side

Even if you awoke
before the sun

Suddenly
I remembered every single reason why
I ever fell in love with you
As you pulled me towards my bed
"I've just fixed the sheets," I had said
And without the slightest hesitation
"Let's mess them up again."

I was seemingly unaware that I was
falling in love with you
With the way you cursed my name
and told me that you hated school dances
But I longed to dance with you
And find myself swooning in a cocoon
of black night dresses and tuxedos
With your arms wrapped tightly around
my waist and my hands laying along
the ***** of your shoulders
And I enjoyed the thought that you fancied
me in a way I naught knew possible
Because at the time I had yet to discover
the missing part of myself that was buried somewhere
within you

I want the world to know
that I would tear apart
my ribcage just to give
you my soul
and play you a song on
my bleeding heart strings

I want you to know
that I would pry open
my skull just to show you
that you are the only thing
that is ever on my mind

I want you to know
that I would pick through
my retinas to prove to you
that you are, and always
have been the apple of my eye

I want you to know
that I know
you wouldn't do any
of this for me,
despite the fact that I
wouldn't hesitate to walk
you through the dying garden
of my soul
But most importantly
I want you to know
that I love you every second
of the day,

regardlessly

Before you find yourself gasping
for breath at 3:27 in the morning
In the conformity of your makeshift
bed sheet fortress that you've built up
like the barriers that stand around your heart
Wondering how it is possible to
drown without water
Remember that as you run your
fingers over a photograph
That this changes nothing
That staring at a torn and
many times too folded map of the world
Serves about as much purpose
as it did when you stared into his eyes
and hoped to see yourself in there
Or when he slept and you cried
and half of you did not
want to wake him
but the other half desperately
wanted some part of his soul
to know despite his current state
of consciousness that
you were dying inside
But this changes nothing
Because that was then and
this is now,
and the world doesn't wait for anyone.

Very quickly, almost all at once
i found myself falling in love
with everything about you

With the way your eyes lit up
when you laughed and how
your dimples showed when you smiled
I fell in love with the way
your lips moved as my name
eased it's way out of your mouth
and stuck onto the skin of my neck

How your kisses felt like
butterflies landing on my cheeks
and every tear drop was a waterfall
that planted reason in my stomach
as to why I would always need you

I noticed, despite your subtly,
the way your eyes fell to the floor
every time I told you your laugh
was my favorite sound, and
your eyes were my favorite color

But everyday I continued to fall
more in love with you and
all these little things
Even if you could never see
yourself the way I did,
I knew that you would always
be enough for me

Even if I was never enough for you

And I indulge in the thought
as to know how it would feel to be
meticulously and irrevocably in love with you,
my dear

So I yet again find myself
drifting far away
    from here

Evaporating into stardust all throughout the      
                      atmosphere

She hates the way she looks
first thing in the morning
and refuses to look in the mirror on her way down
to make coffee

He adores the way she talks
in her sleep, and runs his fingers
along the curves of her cheeks
and believes there is nothing
more beautiful,
more pure,
more innocent
than the way her hair is imperfect,
her skin left untouched and
her eyes when they have yet to see the world
as she turns to face him at six a.m.


She doesn't know that she's beautiful,
He doesn't know he's her world.

I often times forget that this life
is not someone else's dream
And I constantly find myself
tripping over things and failing to realize that
I did this to myself
I am not who they all aspired me to be
I was never the flower girl tip toeing down the carpeted aisle with a bouquet of red roses in her hands
Rather I grew up the quiet girl sitting alone
in the back corner of the church
Scribbling on her wrists with ink
and wondering how this life ever even came to be

sometimes
i get the sudden urge to pour every aspect of my soul into the pages of an old, empty book
where i can write endlessly in emense detail about every single reason as to why you are the love of my life
and about how i bet you dont remember that afternoon in the coffee shop downtown where you looked into my eyes and grabbed my hand for the first time
and that you've probably forgotten about that morning where you walked to my house in the pouring rain
but i haven't
because what you dont know is that it meant the absolute world to me
or how you stitched up all the broken pieces of myself, unconsciously sewing in tiny bits of your heart until finally we became
one

I could never quite understand why you wanted me
why you chose me when you could have had her, or her, or even her
it perplexed me to think that you
genuinely loved me,
because I had yet to learn to love myself
but it warmed my heart to say
that you were the best story sitting on my bookcase,                  
that you made me feel like the sun was something you had built for me
or to remember all those tear stained nights when you had begged me to stay
and I have finally figured out why now,
because I had made you feel the same way

When you find yourself surrounded
by emptiness and despair,
walking into lonely rooms filled
with hollowed air,
come to me
take my hand
off to never never land.
Where you will never be alone
and never shed a tear,
off to never never land,
take my hand, my dear.

In that moment we shared a glance, and he saw straight into the depths
of my soul.
I saw myself in his eyes and
felt his heart beat against my chest,
keeping perfect rhythm.

"I'm in love with you," he told me, as if
it was the first time he had said the words.
but it wasn't
and for some strange reason, it felt
as though it was.
Like everything was clear now, and
every time he had said it before was just practice.
This was real.

He gathered me in his arms and
I let myself fall into him,
Listening to the soft sound of his breathing
and feeling the rise and fall of his
back under my arms.
"I love you," he whispered in my ear.
The words flowed so gently
and with such ease that I remembered
he had been saying that same sentence
countless times a day for the past year of my life,
only this time was different.
It felt different in my stomach and
brought the snowball to my throat
that I got when I tried my hardest
not to cry.

I closed my eyes and realized I
had never seen a moment
more beautiful than this,
even though my eyes were closed.
"I love you," I told him,
and in that moment,
I knew I had never spoken any words
more true than those.

What you don't know

is that I was from a place far, far away from here
That I had no intentions of staying
Or ever coming back
That I was perfectly content with
Hiding away in my own shadow of the world
Alone

What you don't know
is that I've fallen in love with everything about you
That I've memorized the curves of your shoulders and the ***** of your nape
That I've counted every freckle in your sleep and took tune to the beat of your heart

What you do know
is that you saved me from a
Dark, unforgiving place
That I'm willing to spend the rest of
My life trying to repay you for that
and that my heart now beats for
you

If at the end of my days I could chose only one memory to keep,
It would be the day that seemed like days stuck on infinite repeat.
The entire weight of the universe rested on the words,
I watched his lips as they moved until my vision blurred.
"I love you,"  he whispered, and I knew the words were true.
Like innocence and certainty, the sky would marvel blue.

As he looked into her eyes
his hand crept across her chin,
He tried to emphasize the scent that
lingered on her skin.

fresh cut wood and faded dreams,
Rich red wine and nicotine.
If looks could ****, and hers they would,
He'd lose the ground on which he stood.

But dreams sprout wings and off they flew,
Off to the place where dandelions grew.
He'd take her hand and off they'd go,
Off to the place where only they know.
And their eyes locked tight,

this moment they'd miss,
As they shared one final midnights kiss.

Perhaps there are more words spoken in the midst of silence.
A tear, a touch, an embrace.
An invisible conversation opaque to anyone but the two.
A shattered soul, a heavy heart. Which as they kiss
Consume.

Perhaps there is love buried deep inside hate.
Waiting, watching, knowing.
Swallowed in a sea of empty promises and lies.
A sorrowed soul, a hollow heart. Which as they mix
Devise.

Perhaps there is a message in times of disbelief.
Hiding, hoping, planning.
A beam of faith shining bright behind the darkest drape.
A searching soul, a healing heart. Which as they meet
Escape.

Remove heart from your chest and
throw it on the ground.
Sift through the lies until
it doesn't make a sound.
Mix it in a bowl until
the blood turns cool as ice.
Now whisk it on the stove top and
saute it over night.
Check progress in the morning and
if all goes well as planned,

you have a recipe for a heartache that
no one will understand.

Living within a death consumed shell,
Engrossed by the madness; a horrifying hell.
Another day goes by living life in a tomb,
Not a sun in the sky, nor a flower to bloom.
Identity lies within the names on the tags,
Fighting for freedom, fighting for flags.
The empty, sorrowed soldier’s eyes
Watch in silence as another man dies.
Locked inside this final fight,
Soldiers die for wrong and right.
And here their bodies laid to rest,
Each of their hearts and souls ablessed.
For one is but a grain of sand,
Lost along this foreign land.