If You Could See Me

Sometimes I have a dream
That you look into my soul
And see nothing but a hole;
Desperately I want to scream.

You look at me, lacking control
Because your baby disappeared;
It was the one thing I feared:
Realization of what they stole.

The black hole in me leered,
A gaping chasm in my heart;
Spreading, it’s poison from a dart
That cannot be revered.

Oh, dear, what a look on your face;
A shattered soul met without grace.

Winter’s Darkness

In this grey cold,
A lonely heart bleats.

Shiver, controlled,
What rush retreats;
Frozen air has cajoled
and plunged heart beats.

An endeavor of old;
Winter’s mistake repeats.
Love shaded pale gold
Like a ghost, faded.

Skip the blasted grey; hold
to the blue-tinged streets.

You Might Think This Is For You. You’d Be Right.

I wish to see your world of grey
And paint it with colors.
Flecks of gold favor your lips:
Spare your wordplay
And best vocabulary for truth.
Midnight’s blues eclipse
Your eyes; shards of flowered
purples firmly anchored.
Work is undone; The sun sets
Our quiet world ablaze,
And suddenly it becomes
Fiery embers of rusted red.

Broken Heart

A heart that is broken still beats.
A heart cannot break of sadness
Or loneliness
Or despair.

My heart didn’t stutter when
My lungs cracked apart
And showed me how unforgiving
Your ice really is.

My heart was far from my mind
As my stomach twisted until
I could barely swallow.
Or eat. Or think.

My mind buried you and
Laid beside the grave,
Rubbing its fingers over
Your engraved name.

My heart slowed down and
Sped up when I pondered you
And showed me steadiness
As I faced grief.

In the Clouds

I only pray
As the wheels of the plane
Lift off the ground.
It isn’t that I don’t believe in God;
I don’t. That’s not the point.
It is the appearance of comfort.
The quickening unease coils in my stomach,
Banished from my body as I repeat well-worn words.
They’re scars written behind my eyelids,
They’re soft spoken security blankets,
They’re a ritual I cannot break.
The day I don’t consider those words
As the engines roar next to me,
That will be the day that God fails to catch me.
Even if he never existed.

I Had A Friend

I had a friend who listened to me;
she listened so much that she didn’t hear me ask about herself.
She kept her arms and ears open,
but not to the extent to which I could reach out and pull her into myself.
I wanted to save her,
she only wanted to save me, and leave herself in the cold.
One day she asked me why I didn’t care, and I didn’t have an answer.
I thought I had shown her my love through my voice, but she couldn’t hear it.

I had a friend who was kind;
she cared and cared for everyone except herself.
She wished the world to anyone else,
but didn’t stop to consider who cared for her.
I wanted to save her,
she only wanted to save me, and leave herself in the cold.
One day she asked me why I didn’t listen to her, and I didn’t have an answer.
I thought I listened, but maybe it wasn’t her words I was supposed to pay attention to.

I had a friend who listened, and a friend who was kind.
They stretched and yawned and curled into each other.
They were ready to come in from the cold,
But I couldn’t be the one to open the door.
They built a fire of my bones,
Stacked burning words atop my flesh, watched me sizzle,
and thought nothing of saving me.
I became ash.

I confess:
I do not know you anymore.
Oh, I think I do.
My mind hints at what you would say,
or how you would say it.
But truth be told, we’re
worlds away. And
for the most part,
that’s fine by me.
Of course, I’ve excluded
the pangs that wrap around
my lungs and squeeze.
I pretend you’re
not happy with her.
Your voice was the first thing
that was supposed to exit
stage left of my mind;
that hasn’t happened yet,
and it’s been too long.