You won’t see me when I enter. The crystals of glass
gliding past as I ride a sliver of moon glow

through your window and crumple to your floor.
You won’t see me when I rise and survey

the scene. A foreign body by your side. Books you’ll never
read. I slip a gossamer thumb into your slumbered

mind. Let me finger through your dreams. Taste you
from the inside. I’m not sure why I chose to arrive. But I’ll move

an object enough to leave a mark. And now, like before. You won’t
see me. I leave quietly in the night. The last thing you’d want

is an encore.

Lighthouse cloaked in wavelike fog
which drifts like a silver procession
through the ferns and evergreens.

Spectral rivers of autumn leaves
spiral across the rocks.

Phantoms of white, smoky halos
tremble through a willow
dancing in holy midnight.

Lindworm draped by blackened seas
brewing thunder and hurricanes
to batter the haggard land.

I am at a crescendo of this mercurially
fervent woe, maimed by the visage of
smoke and mirrors;
"a death in chrysalis is to live once again."

Draping into the worn out disheveled
silk, beautifully withered
lulled by the sound of riverbanks
as if it's pacifying the feral.

A star-lit eyes deluged with bliss
rose with thorn-teared flesh
overwhelmed by a mawkish melancholia. Although we were haunted by our old love, it will never be the same.

After years pass
there are
                    fragments
of memory
that scab up

The coagulation
Transmorphs
Into a siren
Luring me

To pick them open
like a lock
Just to call them
                    home
once more

I know you are real.
They try to convince me otherwise
Telling me your presence is only surreal
And I'm "overthinking"

I let them know I can feel you
I'd say you are like a dark cloud hovering around my room.
But vapour is light.
And you,
You feel more like a boulder.
Descending on me and bringing about my doom.

As I sit across from you on my wooden stool.
Tears start crawling out of my eyes
tick, tock this has now become a bawl
a minute passes by and I am drowning in an ocean of woe.

Help me , Help me , I am drowning in a ocean woe
Brought upon me by you.

I am always here
the little girl smiled down
from the oak wardrobe
in his soft silhouette house.
Now pull the covers tighter