Silence has become the sweetest melody
I hear things I cannot reproduce
Songs with too much meaning to convey
Silence is not golden
It's raw
Raw like my feet in high heels
Raw like your words
Raw like a crack of thunder
Raw like a cry of remorse
Raw
Raw
Raw
I cannot breathe

9/20/13

I died last night.
A stain of red upon the sheets.

I died last night.
Without a sound leaving my lips.

I died last night.
And I'm still lying there.

I died last night.
Without a care.

I died last night,
to live for today
and to grow for
tomorrow.

I died last night,
to live.

i should have kissed you when you asked me to
i was too tired, too anxious, too blind to see that you were you
and the person i was back then didn't fit the person you were becoming
if only i knew you were slipping away from me
i would have kissed you every single time you asked me to

Are you the harbinger of a fallen future?
Or a minstrel singing of the days of plight and sorrow?
Do you wonder how life works without remorse and torture?
Are you a dreamer, dreaming of a better tomorrow?
Will you sing something happier, a song of  blue skies and rainbows?
Maybe a mantra to turn the clock back and make everything right?
I sit here by the window, the sounds of a war raging on outside.
My days are darker now, so is the world around.

I saw you again and it reminded me of a time
When we were still friends
And we said we didn't need anyone else
Because we had each other.
But here we are so far away from where we started
Almost as if we had never started to begin with.
What hurts a little,
And to be honest what hurts the most
Is that we have to act like nothing is wrong
But everything is wrong and we know it
We don't show it but we feel it
And as you and I say good bye my voice waivers with hesitation
Because I didn't want you to leave and
I believe you didn't want to go.

I wanted to write a poem about
something seemingly simple like love,
but then I remembered all those times I
lost myself on the winding stairs of your eyes;
how I would so eagerly climb the steps of your retinas and
get lost in the hues and you didn’t feel anything as
I shattered every glass landing but
sometimes I feel the phantom drip of
blood on my feet when I trip over
my own tongue.

I remember my heart felt
like it was ticking counterclockwise
and how my stomach was shredding itself,
taking the ribboned pieces and
hanging them from my ribcage
so that they fluttered when my lungs
expanded on that last exhale.

I’d like to think that the click and bob
Of your throat was remorse.

Dream of me, if even a little.
A nightmare perhaps
so that I may wake you in the
eve of night-
sweat pouring, throat hoarse
from wailing.
Have a good night sleep, may
the siren's song drown you into
a fitful slumber.
But just remember, my sweet dove,
thoughts of guilt will haunt you
wherever you slip.