Stepping back into my life;
You know as well as I do,
That it's a dangerous move.

Don't play with my head,
Its true, I've began to lower my walls again,
But I can also get hurt once more, greater than I've been.

Everyone deserves a second chance,
But I give it to you in caution;
I can't turn back, on all the progress I've gotten.

So my mind will do it's best,
To make sure my heart stays in line,
And doesn't cross these boundaries, laid so fine.

I question myself,
And question your intent,
Hoping that my next decision doesn't end in regret.

So good luck,
I truly wish you well,
Because this time, I won't be the one who fell.

Most days I just want to come home to,
Find you in my bed,
And just fold myself around you,
And leave the blankets on the floor.
Each other is enough to keep us warm.

But what I want is rarely what I receive.
And so it's another bowl,
Then off to scramble for my keys,
And hope for the worst.

Sometimes I'll find myself looking for an escape,
Then realize there is only one.
And that is the path of the selfish and the weak,
And I am neither.

Far from brave,
But farther from cowardly.
I could daze for days,
And let misery shower me.

But once again,
I'm alone, radiating hate,
For this distance that,
Seems to obstruct our fate.

Once the passion in my eyes burns out,
Once you've realized I'm unworthy...
It's another bridge incinerated,
But let's be honest, I was never that sturdy.

If you're a flower,
Then I'm a ***,
Because you grew up,
And I did not.

Restless mind
Restless body
Restless soul
Eyes crying a river
Every night
A lullaby to sleep it seems
A nightly routine
Feeling of loneliness
Feeling of doubt
Feeling of sadness
The need to just shout
A numb mind
A face dried with tears
Only one solution
Make the hurt my heart feels
Go away
A slice for my mind
A slice for my body
A slice for my soul
A life full of lies
A life full of disappointment
Never one to give in
But one to feel the consequence of considering
One slice for lies
One slice for disappointment
Why do I do this to myself?
Cause myself so much pain?
I wish I could end it all
The hurt
The doubt
The pain
I should take one for the team right?
Let's see...
Maybe they'd all be better off without me...

We smile at each other
and I lean back against the wicker couch.
How does it feel to be dead? I say.
You touch my knees with your blue fingers.
And when you open your mouth,
a ball of yellow light falls to the floor
and burns a hole through it.
Don't tell me, I say. I don't want to hear.
Did you ever, you start,
wear a certain kind of dress
and just by accident,
so inconsequential you barely notice it,
your fingers graze that dress
and you hear the sound of a knife cutting paper,
you see it too
and you realize how that image
is simply the extension of another image,
that your own life
is a chain of words
that one day will snap.
Words, you say, young girls in a circle, holding hands,
and beginning to rise heavenward
in their confirmation dresses,
like white helium balloons,
the wreathes of flowers on their heads spinning,
and above all that,
that's where I'm floating,
and that's what it's like
only ten times clearer,
ten times more horrible.
Could anyone alive survive it?

A Poet’s pen speaks of poetry
Spoken under the moonlight of scattered nights
Writing cascading emotions of depths and reverie
Felt by countless stars and the endless sands of time

They are of words of absolute truth
An enigma of echoing thoughts
with the passion of smiles and tears
A puzzle in pieces of life
yet to be unraveled by untainted eyes
and souls beating of true heart

They are of verses of dramas
A hanging Light within the bounds
of magic and reality, of dragons and fires
Forever floating like drifting mist
carried by the everyday wind
never touching the mind of the stagnant stream

They are of tides of the setting sun
Rising and falling with man and the Moon
They speak of sunriseof a new dawn
aging like the Sage, with the wisdom of the Crone

And tonight…
A Poetry speaks when a Poet pens
Beyond the night of scattered lights
In the time of a burning candle
…the setting of the dusk of the sun
will cast light upon the shadows of truth and dramas


Mek
Oct07

Love is universal migraine,
A bright stain on the vision
Blotting out reason.

Symptoms of true love
Are leanness, jealousy,
Laggard dawns;

Are omens and nightmares -
Listening for a knock,
Waiting for a sign:

For a touch of her fingers
In a darkened room,
For a searching look.

Take courage, lover!
Could you endure such pain
At any hand but hers?