In the shadow of what turned out,

I stay hidden away with you

Reconstructing a second chance in this momentary shelter,

a simplistic living space made for the fall-out of nuclear-me

Though I was quite a sight to see in those formative days

Since that, I carry your heart in my heart

It brings mine back, beating right before I’m about to return it to the Earth as dust

And like in the beginning of time, I’m waiting for there to be light

A reversal of clocks to bring your candles into adding up

The source of all my living trust

There are moments when I’d wish It’d ignite in a wolf’s wildfire,

howling as I’m given the sight to watch this immortal house finally burn to the ground

But no date, animal nor element need atone for the rooms full of problems I keep building

While my life’s passing me by, in the dark, on its way out the front door

Well shame on me, the King of Nothing

***This was my re-write to the poem Cabin Fever Saves Lives. Let me know what you think. I hope it brings you something you need***

Love tears my heart out, saving me, before I returned it back to the earth as dust

Yearning your candle to light as calender year after calender year fly by in the dark

I wish that time would ignite into a wolf’s wildfire and give me sight to watch as it burns this old house to the ground

But no date, element nor animal need atone for the rooms full of problems I keep building on

That’s why i carry your heart in my heart:

The worst of happenings can be the strongest parts of you when they can’t be given up

***A work in progress still but isn’t every poem forevermore needing a few rewrites. I love using my same journal sheet for each poem. It gets all worn and tattered in the most lovely of ways***

Long, long ago there was a wishing-well. Found in an endless sea sitting on an island just barely big enough for you and me; though very nurturing to others needs. People wished it to an easier place to reach. For some reason, that was a wish which would never be. So they all moaned and groaned. To get to it people rented boats. Others had to swim. And, some even parachuted in. Still, no matter how easy it got to get there people kept complaining every time they'd go to make a wish. Day after day those moans and groans added up as the water was slowly draining. No one took time for the wishing-well. It had needs. Just as anything else. The magic water had been lessening with every mean spirited wish people were making. Nobody bothered to think to care. Until one day a boy named Tomas finally dared. A 6-year-old kid that to date had made 55 wishes. None which were ever for him. He made wishes for happiness and health of people less fortunate than himself. On a day like any other, he went wishing but nothing ever came. "Such forgetfulness." he thought to himself. He forgot the wishing-wells well-being. Tomas peered the well's ledge, down inside, to see if water was left or if it went completely dry. As far as light showed, there wasn't a drop. So Tomas threw a stone down, listening, but heard nothing. He leaned even further over the edge to get better vantage. And sadly even too sad, Tomas ended up fumbling off the bricks falling in feet over head. Needless to say, it was empty. Tomas was stuck at the bottom. And, despite all his hooping and hollering nobody ever seemd to be listening. People slowly stopped coming since they didn't get their wishing. Now way down at the bottom, where Tomas once set, lay his bones with brick crumblings falling overhead from a wishing-well far pass it's well-being.