She loves the
darkness.
It’s like a scar on
her soul.
She constantly complains about
my drinking,
yet daily, she fades
to black.
Sleep, oh what an
escape, but she
rapes the sunrise with
worry and
dreams deferred.
I write by candlelight because
she’s in a  
foul mood.
It’s like a tomb.

I'm waiting for someone to listen
I don't think no one is

feels empty not having anyone on your side

I live in my daydreams
where someone does

I will find the right words
not having someone who understands is torture

days
I wait for nights
to hug the moon close
I feel warmer inside moonlight

On the cliff
she´s standing

waiting

for the one
who never arrives

longing

grieving

for love
that never
comes