Your love ascended on me fearlessly.
I had no choice but to fall in love with your voice.
And all the loudness in my thoughts
your voice was the only one I sought.

Your love descended from me after a while.
rare connections separated.
all the times I meditated, hoping you come back down
my biggest fear awaits...your nowhere to be found.

Now your love is teaching me how to heal and be free.
There's no need to fear I'm always right here.
so I went with my instinct and let you be.
Trusting with all my soul that you'd make it back home
but you got lost and I must let you go. Go back to where you
came... I learned my lesson anyways.
ALWAYS TRUST YOUR INSTINCT

She came into my bedroom
                                            one winter's day
                                     silhouetted by the moon
                                           and chose to stay.


                                    By summer she was gone
                                          -figment or fey-
                                I waited for her return all autumn long
                                  wondering why she went away.

you have her
youth in your
clammy, divisive palms.
you have her
childlike innocence
and her bedtime stories
and her goodnight kisses.

isnt it only fair
that you should also
hold, so dearly, every
scar you placed on her
silken skin and
arythmic heart?

right now
she is dancing
fireside, so freely,
tasting the last embers of
stale whiskey
and always, always the absence you.

in the morning her veins
will break free and bleed
you away.

she holds nothing but
the shattered remains

Take me back to summer
Where the time was simpler
And the love was greater
Where you held my hand
And held me 'till I was better

Take me back to the time where our love was still alive.

Twisting, turning, tides o churning
Diving down, to drown the burning
Fires flying, dreams of dying
Yearning and still learning.

Chase the oil slicks,
Douse the blackness.
Flee the river styx,
Let go of false desires.

Set the past, ablaze with matches.
Destroy this hatred, in its masses.
Follow footsteps, frightened faces,
And find fate hides, in many places.

Whilst wounded
I've no anger
In this heart

Toward you

A poem without a feeling
When one is estrange from them self
A desire to want a want for desire
Convoluted and not yet acquired
It's not empty,
or missing.
A combination of both ?
The heart is there but absent.
The heart is a class,
but the feelings aren't there.

the absence of heart is not the absent of mind, dot dot dot read between the lines