The weary days pass!

A myriad of thoughts

-None spoken!

Yet, the evening's mine

Alas!

For each night

Here I traverse

To take delight

Of my silent voice.

To not hear

Disturbing utterances

Which bother my

Ears and thoughts!

To make

No meaningless noise.

And to dwell

In this world of yours! Where you-

Word-lovers live;

A home, a place

To store one's feelings;

A place with

Endless hope to give.

To be heard,

And to be valued!

For we shall leave

Something behind.

If not our lively bodies,

A tiny, little piece

Of our beautiful mind!

My heart is the ink

Prose is my page.

With Freedom not fear

I put feelings to paper ...

Allowed to breathe,

break and be heard,

I slowly sew wounds to

patch parts unfixable ...

In the valley of Prose,

I am colored by

shades of beauty

as I recycle my soul ...

More ethereal than the moment before the sun rises

The cumulus embrace you, raise you 

Hair a soft halo

Around your luminous face

My center, my keystone

The dewy spider web 

Strong despite (because?) of your beauty 

The balmy heat of your breath

Caresses my ear

Torturous silence in the wake of you

Oh how I long to speak of your weather

My almost hurricane

Talking about the weather with you, alone

is better than you not saying a word to me

you talk to the butcher, the gas station clerk

but not a word to me- what is wrong?

your lips remain sealed no matter my pleading

I know I got angry, threw you against the wall

but you came home late without letting me know

dinner wasn’t ready when I arrived at six

You know I like it on the table when I walk in the door

And I don’t like cauliflower as you damned well know

You wouldn’t have served it if you cared about me

And now you’re not talking to me at all

Your eyes stare glassy, you’re holding your breath

It’s all your fault, you made me do it, you bitch

I’m getting angry again but your body remains still

If it mattered to you, you’d talk to me once more

now I sit, alone, talking about weather with no one.

Drip. Drip.

"It's raining." I remarked.

Silence.

Always, silence.

The grass was damp beneath my shoes. I could feel the moisture soaking in through my soles. I didn't find that I cared.

My umbrella was deflecting most of the rain, but it was tilted back so I could see you in front of me. The water ran down my face.

I suppose it's poetic, this moment. Fresh water from the heavens mingling with my own salt tears.

"It's always raining." I said.

You said nothing.

"I thought of bringing you flowers, but they would've gotten soaked on the way here."

The rain fell. The clouds moaned, the wind screamed.

You slept in your grave.

As always.

It began with anticipation and butterflies flickering within.

Embers of hope sparked. Shone off like fireflies in the dark. 

The ever compassing romantic unfurled from her slumber, dreaming of softness and silk.

Of rich foods enjoyed by gleaming eyes. Of walks in old places. The memory of dark spaces . 

The by and by of days gone by, startled touch, and moody scenes.

Chocolate kisses, blossoms, & giddiness...lovers sigh.

Those secret seafoam places that drip and

part in lovers' waves,

that's where she broke the bones.

The pelicans dance in midnight oils

to kiss the burn away,

And swells roll in their shade.

Hidden in-between cracks where tongue

meets haunted oblivion,

her spell is burnt in another's lips.

And when Poseidon calls to him that

nymph of gilded steel,

she melts away in clouds of cosmic

Slips and shards of coloured silk.

She is mine,

And in her there is a destiny encased

In eternal cloud and flame. It glints

heavy against the pane

Of tiny glass that holds us close together.

Et ainsi, le moqueur chante.

Let's kick the chair out from under.

We'll hope for a quick drop,

Married with a sudden stop.

Tie my hands behind my back.

Pull that noose in tight,

We can't afford any slack.

You've been in control.

The man you love,

Is the product of the heart you mold.

But I got this feeling,

That your feet are growing cold.

That you've got no end all goal.

I'll take to the stage.

I'll present to you my last words.

Get ready to turn the page.

Because I got this feeling,

That we ran out of luck.

That no matter what I say to you,

You'll treat us like we're fucked.

So when it's all said and done,

You won't be the one in harms way.

You'll walk out with face covered,

While my body hangs on display.

And I got this feeling,

You never intended to stay.

Can you blame me for feeling hurt?

Your words spoke with a sweetness to it.

Now I'm the one being lowered into the dirt.

Yet it's your innocence you struggle to assert.

And I got this feeling,

Your future isn't all that appealing.

Know before you kick that chair out from under.

There's still time love.

Time to reconsider.

My heart was never up for auction.

You were always going to be the highest bidder.

I'll love you until the day I die.

I can see you struggle not to cry.

There's still time love.

Time to reconsi—