I slept on the bed
of a poet, Gibran
and there fell a poem
into my head
like a song…

“One day you will ask me
which is more important?
My life or yours?
I will say mine
and you will walk away
not knowing
that you are my life.”

I slept on the bed
of a poet, Gibran
and my dreams were filled
in my heart was a song
a longing so sweet
a desire too strong
till the museum guard came
and moved me along

Life---a mere dewdrop

    how soon it will stop

    lo,  bright is the sun

    joys let's celebrate ere the day is done-



    in fondest love I stretch forth my arm

    tarry, not, my beloved, come, oh come

    to your beauty I'll now gladly perish

    you, you alone, are my dream's eternal wish

Marriage that has lost its laughter

becomes a withered flower

I tried to wake you up
You wouldn't stir
I thought you were sleeping
You weren't
You were playing dead
Messing with my head
Your sick game of pretend
So in my resentment
I pulled out a gun
I turned you into the real thing

how many times have I tried to text you “I love you”, just to erase it before pressing send? too many times to count.