Some people erase my warm feelings for themselves by their blindness and deafness for my feelings and tell others in my absence that Spriha has changed.

Come and rest your
head upon my pillow,
and trace your fingers
along the tear stains

Now, close your eyes,
I will be waiting
for you in a dream

Let us not talk
about family

My father
is the word absence

And my mother
is the word fear

not there for the birth of love
nor the conception really either
already moved on to pastures new
greener grass new playgrounds
I will miss you as you were
a delicate beauty blooming
in the warmth of summer sun
skin un-sinned flesh un-tarnished
a curiosity of unexplored emotions
badly answered selfishly shattered


I have lived a life of absence
never there when needed
only answering the call of lust
never the one to bring flowers
just invasive thoughts and gestures
never the one to talk on pillows
after passion in the darkness
the timeless time of lovers
the loveless time of *******
like me already gone

the attraction of a moth to a flame

My voice doesn’t reach you there
But I know you hear it
My screams get numbed
But I hope my silences scrape you

a forlorn attempt to hold you
a whimsical endeavor to outgrow you
my memory poisoning my dreams
your absence obscuring my senses

when sunlight enters, I see
the bright light mocking me.
A voice always calling out to you
doesn’t matter it’s day or at night

Morning is meant to illuminate
not to succumb to dark.
Collecting souvenirs of wretched soul  
my voice eventually chokes to death.

In your cold absence,
I have forgotten what
the word warmth meant

Perhaps you were  
the word warmth

But now, you are
the word silence

I talk to you,
but you do not talk back