A click of a lock at curfew cut off the chaos of the day,
The last pulse in the longest piece we’d had to play,
Stillness and silence until tomorrow’s dawn.

Until a string broke in the room,
A final sigh before the creak of drying wood,
The trio rocked and murmured ‘til my tears subsided.

The Sultan would spare the enchantress,
But I still wept, because I knew
That ten doors down, in her own prison,
Scheherazade was weeping too.

Face will glisten and fingers bleed,
For this love too out of reach

Notes pour off the page too quick,
Wrist trembles,
Shoulders click

Crystal tears dull thoughts of blood,
It’s a passion, hurts too much

I may never know
What lies behind the veil each night.
I may never know
If pain or paradise await my mind,
If I will dream of milk and honey
Or run from hellhounds endlessly.
I may never know
What lies in store for me each night,
So I can toss and turn
As every day grows long and bleak,
But I can’t stay awake forever
For everyone must sleep.

I lay on my back,
Crystal water
Washing around me
Ringing in clarity.

Waving gold forests
Caress my fingertips.
Their shimmering spots of sun
Soothing to me.

Clouds, cotton candy at first,
Fill space and time
With sureness and sense
With fragile glass eyes
I watch them go by.

They float farther and farther
Sun brighter and brighter.
I’m still,
Brittle,
Clear water washing over me,
As I drown in the vast, empty sky.

Swirling silt rises as the my thoughts pollute the water,
Blackened, poisoned by my mind.

I lay in darkness, frozen in murky-still slush.
A thickening swamp to rot in,
What does it take to stop clinging to the bottom and rise,
Rise above the murk to clarity,
Away from the sediment,
Up towards serenity?

A last strand of sunlight reaches down,
I shut it out,
Searching for a light within
Searching for something to brighten my own darkness after the sun will set

One ray.
One sliver of clarity will be enough.
When will it come?
How was my world so light before, so clear?
Waves lap over my face, over my head, over my chest,
Revealing a faint glow.
A new angle, new feeling, for once a breath of air.

Just enough.
Enough to part the swirling silt,
To catch a glimpse of an inky sky.

Though it may have seemed otherwise before,
She is not empty,
But filled with stars.
Small, far away,
But breathing light,
Glowing and just bright enough to soften the vast emptiness before me.

All with their own lives,
clear streams or silty quagmires,
All so far and alone but still shining, beaming with hope.

Just enough
Just enough to relight a spark, to bring a silvery luminescence to the waving, silent forest.
Still swirling with silt, but growing clearer each day.

Enough to see the thick, rich clouds,
Collage on canvas,
Layers stripped away to reveal
Stern colors beneath.

The clouds changed,
No longer fillers and pillows,
Now new and untamed.
A complement to the sky, not her replacement.

And in my corner of this sky,
I learned I was the moon.
Though I would darken,
Draped by shadow,
I would always find a spark to light my own way in the vast emptiness of a tortured mind.
And perhaps even enough for a lost star to claim its light.

Maybe I can cut my hair,
Fresh start,
Bring me closer to a feeling that’s not quite there.

Want to be loved,
Just not by you.
I wish I could feel for you the same way you do...
But there’s a sunflower seed still growing wild somewhere inside me,
Even though there’s no hope for it to be
It’s still there

In a weeping valley ringed by slumbering mountains
The most beautiful things
Are slivers of December sky
In between layers and layers of  clouds of darkened silver,
Reflected by the sea-bottle blue of sea glass panes.

The tops of spires nestle in fine mist,
And lifegiving raindrops splatter across crumbling walls,
They stain everything green,
Giving this haven of patchwork concrete and metal it’s name.

Let my sorrows depart swiftly with these silent currents,
Let my wishes be fulfilled by this emerald city.

Late mornings of waking up to lazy sunlight
Stretching its rays across a pastel sky like I stretch my legs deeper under the crackling blankets
In search of pockets of warmth to keep out the chill

Where in the day the cool clarity makes everything a bit too real,
The ringing boldness of every line,
The inexplicable scent of chocolate and cinnamon and hints of fir
The sharpness of the Frost’s playful bite

Night falls early upon young lovers,
And watercolor lights glow as soft and colorful
As the secretly enamored gleam of overflowing joy in their eyes,
As they wander hand in hand, sharing music from decades before their time

When a muffled quiet settles in the suburbs,
All edges coated softly in glinting silvery-white,
An amber glow of street lights  keeping the night at bay,
With rosy cheeks and dry eyelashes
Peppermint kisses are exchanged