Recently I have spent more time horizontal than vertical
Head on the pillow back to my bed
Phone in hand and watching the fake lives of fake characters go about there day getting to know them so well I can predict there every move
I'm the best kinda friend I watch and listen never interrupt or speak out of line

The light flickers through my window as the breeze blows the trees round and round
The world outside fly by without me in it no picture on my walls of us getting older my room froze in time
Like no days have passed
Well outside people grow
old leaves change colour and fall to the ground children grow and climb one branch higher
well my friends eventually end and I have to wait months for them to come back or actually say goodbye
I move on to the next group taking a while to get to know them sometimes getting bored and changing again

The light calls me whispers through the breeze to go outside but my head is glued to the pillow my back stuck to my bed I don't think I have the strength to rip them off and start again

to be honest
if we stopped talking today
it wouldn’t be the talking i’d miss
although the conversations left me
hopeful
smiling
curious
it’s the moments of not talking
the kisses
the lack of air
the desire for more
that I find myself consumed with

I don’t know whether to be
thankful that it happened
or frustrated with the lack of assurance
that it will happen again (and again)
because now I’ve had a taste
of you
of your hands on my hands,
my back, my neck, my hair
feeling
wanting
holding
I find myself wishing
we could **** time together
by not talking some more

I wish I felt strong

I know that I am
I haven't thrown myself to the mercy of gravity
I haven't given myself to the laws of anatomy

I haven't given up
But I can't say I feel very alive

I am breathing
And sometimes even moving
But I can't say I feel very alive

I can't say I feel alive at all

I want to write about how she stole the moon
And hid it behind the sun

I want to write about friendships
That have only just begun

The immense creativity
That's held inside of me

I want to let it out

But the burden of living
Even though it's only breathing
And sometimes even moving
Makes it hard to turn myself to writing

I want to let it out

let
                                                        it
                                                                                                                 out

A child of autumn lives next door,
her face glows with amber blush;
Her lovely voice floats through the air,
so soft and tender is her touch.

Just sweet sixteen with freckles,
and bright ribbons in her hair;
With a flouncy skirt of gingham,
as she prances across the square.

She gathers leaves in woven baskets,
then brings them back to me;
This gesture always warms my heart,,
as we share some cinnamon tea !

Her smile is quite infectious,
as she munches on a scone;
But soon she rushes off to see,
her mama and papa at home.

Endearing child of autumn,
forever close in my aging heart;
Your life holds years of happiness,
when from this earthly world I part.

I want to write a poem
But I cannot find the words
They're stuck in my throat
Caught in my mind
Tangled in my soul
How do I say that I am alone
So alone
Even though I'm surrounded
By voices
Excited
And vibrating with energy
How do I explain
In soft, genuine letters
That my soul is torn apart
Riven in two
Broken
Not my heart, my soul
It hurts to breathe
Because it's all in my chest
Building up
Like tears
Breaking in waves across my cheeks
How can I express
That the pain
Hidden in my smiles
Is so wrenching
And horrible
And lonely
That I can't take it
I miss someone
So much
But
******
I don't know who I miss