I tried.
I tried to keep away from words.
But every now and then I find myself stealing (reading).  

Yesterday, I read:
                      The heart will find a way to reach what it loves,
                              however hard the mind tries to hinder.

Then I tried to keep away from you, too.

But every now and then I find myself stealing.

Alas! the heart found that ****** way.

Why do I lay awake,
when my eyes beg to close,
and my limbs ache for rest?

Why do I drink to the bottom of the bottle,
when my head is spinning,
and my mouth is numb?

Why do I bleed,
when my wrist is screaming,
and my sheets are already stained red?

Why do I lay awake,
when I spent the entire day,
looking forward to the thought of sleep?

The horizon
A fog dusted oblivion
And you
All alone

Treasures lost our souls left to cry,
Golden tears fall down the sigh.
The feelings sway with the wind.
Blown away to return not again.
The fluttering lashes of my eye,
Turn from the emerald ashes that fly.
Born up to the clouds of yesterdays dreams,
The trampled petals that've withered and died.
Harmony fades as my shallow breath slows.
In the end no one knows!

© Crystal Erickson 4/15/08

Cloudy skies
Translucent souls
Cloudy minds
Opaque walls

The muse died
I put a stake through her heart
Put her in the ground

She will no longer
**** away my sleep
Trade my time for trinkets of rhyme

I left her
In an unmarked grave
So soon to be forgotten

She will no longer
Rise at first moon
To haunt my memories

Like a simple twist of fate
She looked astonished
The first blow upon the stake

I dust off my hands
And lay my shovel down
I'm going home

I will lay down
And go back to sleep
all within my ease

But before I do
I'll throw another poem
Upon the towering stack

Don't look at it too hard,
Or you'll see it doesn't fit,
Talking wears it out

he was being he
and I was
                 being
                           I
Stopped his world for a second
          Run
from what you love
                   Run
from what loves you;
It's only nostalgia now
       and nostalgia is  
                                   my favorite word.
Cleanse my faith
               of your proud sins and
Be human.
God,
          please be human again.

'Life is still a blank canvas', he said.

So she told him to paint a house.
All fenced up,
And to color the grass extra green.
(So that temptation wouldn't court him)

'Why that picture?', he asked.

She replied, *'Because no matter where you go,
Your roots should always bring you home.'

'Because even if the sky is the limit,
And you reach it, the greenest grass
Even from way up above,
will always be your beacon.'

'Because change should be a shade vibrant,
Only then change could mean growth.'

'Because that home you build,
Will be your resting place.
After you've conquered your dreams--
It'll be your place of ease.'

'And', she said, 'because marks and goals
are set first,
the course decided later.
Lastly, *because those pictured endings,
are the best place to begin.'