You're upset arent you.
your choices bleed and stain with regret.
because you trusted the wrong words.
believed in a silicone future.
ignored all warnings.

there you are
in the thick of it.
likely remembering our past and missing it.
watching me from afar.
wishing you could shine as bright.

the part that saddens me most
is that you could have had us.
The emotions felt for you were so raw.  
you never actually saw it.
You barely got a taste of Me.

when the rigid mass that gnaws at your stomach
is really the heft and poison of a sullen heart

When we chance
upon each other
years later,
you will ask me

          do you still write?

and I will answer

           of course I do.

you took my heart
with you when you left,
not my hands.

The sky twirling at bay,
Melodies of summer in May,
Heat stroking farther, forever
In this oblivious weather,
The wind flies high,
Darkness regretted, Light calls,
To enervate the recreated world,
The maze of life,
Is regrettable,
Unforgettable.
But as summer calls,
So do the loving and dead,
And, thus,
The unforgettable becomes forgettable.

As the leaves reappear one after the other
And the sky resonates with loud motors no longer,
Rather the melody of the feathery comets,
The timelessly rushed city does not comment.

It does not look up or stop the watch,
But carries on the proud march,
Out of breath, never in one place,
The race dictates the pace,
For the pride of glorious success,
Or to avoid the darkness of loneliness.  

You don’t even smile anymore, no pretending,
But when last did you last looks past
Your own existence. Nature and harmony,
Only a distant memory, is this how it was meant to be?

just a foolish girl
letting nostalgia
fill her heart
and leave her aching
for a love
that never existed.

Watch the quill dance her Waltz
spinning from a corner to another
dressed in a brides vail of feather
her trail of sweat drawing colors on the dance floor
painting mesmerizing as her puppeteer spins her around
but when the dance is over
and she takes her bow
only the nameless trails of her effort remains
no one will know the dancer
and only the puppeteer
gets a standing ovation
while the curtain closes her away
and she is casted back
into the wooden box she was summoned from.

Oh cry of the heavens why pat my shoulder
will they ever return to me
I think  not
thank you for lending your heartfelt sighs
but I too can cry a river
but like all rocks, sharp and cutting
my tears will go around them
and within their hearts
will remain dry.

figures, flames and dancing silhouettes
shades and flashes and a zing
warmth, chills and lost in azure cloud
falling to a limitless pit
a face a mirror a pathway
a door a lamp a distance
a shadow a fear a climb a cliff
a death a memory a gateway.