A moment passed, as it always seems to
With guilt washing over me like the shore,
Passed without me doing what I need to,
Bound in chains of shame I failed once more.

For what was I bequeathed this gift of time
If not to use passing moments for praise?
Weary, I let passivity be my crime.
These wasted moments lead to wasted days.

The morning light is heavy with regret,
No slumber enough for this restless soul.
I laid down with my dreams serene, and yet,
Overnight my guilt turned soul black as coal.

Saying “I love you” ere I close my eyes,
Means more to me than I could realize.

My pillow warm with light dampness
Rejects my head with suddenness,
Last night welcoming in comfort,
At dawn sends me away in hurt.

How shall I start this weary day?
What do faint flickers of dreams say?
Last night I slunk into blackness,
The dawn hurls me into madness.

The frightened embrace of a ghost,
All I have of my lonely host.
Last night I put the light to sleep,
At dawn held by darkness I keep.

Woke to disjointed consciousness,
And left behind my peacefulness,
Last night I plotted my escape.
The dawn of life has taken shape.

Bygones will be Bygones
and their baggage shall beg
to plow again.

Between the gains and confines
of the wrestled soul,
resinous,
behind his silver buttons
and navy knitted nylon
beneath it grey,
cunningly,
breathes the pain
of his flourishing.

i am tired
of waking up
in the middle of the night
at the sound of
my skin tearing itself apart,
i can no longer remove
the stamp of
your lips and hands
off me;
my sides splitting open
so my scars ensconced
deep beneath the surface
can tell the story
of how i fell for you.

i am tired
of staying up
with nothing but
the company of the moon,
awaiting for its eclipse,
blinking away
fragments of what we had —
filled to the brim
with adoration —
although fleeting.

memories of
how you held me —
only distant.

again,
the clock chimed
unforgivingly,
reminding me
of late night drive throughs
around the crevices
of my wreckage of thoughts —
spilled and separated;
full of you,
only you.

I give up the crown I've been wearing
Shifting my chin up high though it's a bit light
Spreading my hands wide just to cover sight

I rather be a tree rather than a Queen tonight
Swaying my wings through the wind quietly
Dancing with the darkness in the pale moonlight

I picture myself swimming across the sea
Got full of my own tears as a company
Serving those eyes a show as you can see

in the cool room
desks, white light
my head slowly nods

the film ends--
within
too hot for tears
outside, the trees
drink deep

pen scratching
on, eyes strain--
yet another blank page