If there were no edge,
Would you follow me in-
If you see a hawk
on a bough at field's edge
beyond the corner you should have turned
maybe it's a sign to go on.
Such as during an improvisation on
Flamingo or I've Got You Under My Skin
you play in the wrong key or mode completely
maybe it's a sign to go on, in the wrong key.
Or when my sons cry not wanting
to be alone, I'm upstairs writing
or just enjoying trees in every direction
it too may be a sign to go on alone.
No metaphor will tell it
Although I convince myself within the moment
That it will last
That the clouds above my head
The howling wind which I adore
The summer rain and the glorious morn
Will indeed last
But they never do
Because no metaphor can contain
Or stretch it over the canvas to fit
Or even begin to properly paint
This representation known as you
You simply are, as simply is
Beyond the metaphor
Within the shadow of a moonlit truth
Buckets have been the only thing helping me drain my eyes that are full of tears
I almost hate the sight of running faucets
Running scared into my only closet
where the only peace I get is the darkest sleep
Years of tears drained into buckets from my eyes
almost feels like I'm never dry inside, please hold me so I can have peace of mind.
There is a poem I have yet to write,
For how does one write what only the heartless can feel?
I speak with shards of my memory,
For I am simply a shell of what once was.
I love with my blood draining from my veins to write life, love in the empty white spaces.
I am incapable of extracting my soul from the gallows where it remains chained to my hast been.
But one can pretend to comprehend the foreign language that is my one and only fear.. love...
For love is tempting and even the empty long for impossibility.
I can say I love you in a emotionless and heartfelt tone.
For I love you in my own coldness, seeing hope is still resting on one side of your ruins, while mine was emptied long ago.
I need not feed your ears or your heart lies to speed you to recovery, but am content to give you the tiny morsels of me that remain so that your wounds May bare only scars in remembrance.
I unlike you bare no signs of redemption, so I freely give you what is still free of rot and withering so that you may live with me.
I am simply and only a shell with little crystals to give,
For love once passed through me walking away with my soul, and love is now far beyond the reach of my door.
End of summer came
Our days were now countable
Will you still remember my name?
Or will distance change everything?
Will our lips still meet even though they haven't touched for weeks?
Or will we rather say the words we fail to speak?
Will our souls still connect effortlessly or will that remind us that some things are not meant to be?
Will I still taste a tint of happiness through your kiss or will I taste a mouth full of pain and regret?
God doesn't make mistakes but time will decide our fate