"What is a silent scream?", she asked me in the middle of July.

"Ink on paper."

You left my mind and I slowly felt you die, my blood that once boiled eased into evaporated bubbles. I sought all feelings that had struck between us; unfortunately, the time is not in my favor. The place I call peace, I lie with closed eyes, warming into warped reality, a moment of tranquility. Huh? This is different–my peace is disrupted, erupted with discomfort, the tranquil moment has gone drifting. I don’t remember much; yet, what I remember, I do well. Your hair was short like the innocence you once held, the fragment of memory that kept me at bay. You no longer have overgrown hair. Your upper lip held youth that is unmatched to the grown experience it holds now. It was the version of you I tucked away, the version that told me to stay. The bad never passed my mind, this dream was simply an instance of mournful pride.

You kissed me with your gentle lips, stuck your tongue out to mine and flicked: an intimate moment I couldn’t help but give in. I swirled my tongue along the seams of your mouth, we were so young; however, this was more recent. We were older than we were, more appropriate for our age. I thought we’d be forever, my heart broke out of its own cage.

I awoke in a confused haze, panting and searching for any answer to why my heart burst with ache; my heart raced hurriedly as I told myself it was just a phase. I want you so desperately, why is this so? You’ve assaulted and manipulated me, so why do I reap what you should sow?

How I wish to be born as one of his tears—
So I could travel down his cheek,
And die on his lips.

I carry you in my heart;
in my head; in my bones.
I would have carried you to the earth's end,
but now, you are simply mulch.

Perhaps
you divined
everything, each word,
is musically inserted
in the bonds tween us

Them
those
poems that untie with
shoelace knots so quick
reveling, seeing her bare back,
is but a bridge over waters
that demands crossing,
for a mid-way joining

When the night is dark,
trembling, each, we stand
by each other, tumble &
fall where we stand

Anyone can see, our unique
trinity, the admixture of
she-me-us, as we untwine
rolling downwards
on a staircase to Heaven,

Nothing makes me wonder
  more; she is east, smoothie~polished,
  me rough hewn from cacti
  and dusty dirt, the only thing
  polished is the tune, sung to her,
  much practiced, strummed upon
  her cheeks, hummed into her soul

If
I had a box of wishes,
  they would each be a
  song that we sing, that
   made angels cry