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Bruce Parker Sep 13
Trying to find something to hold on to

*******, I feel burned through

You held me together like glue

But now you're no longer in view
That bright hue

Oh, how it glew

You pulled me up to the heugh

But what we had is past due
Won’t you come back through,

My baby blue?
I trace the outlines of you

In the silence I sift through

Your laugh still echoes throughout the room,

Like a ghost that won’t resume

I gave all I ever knew

But still, I couldn’t break through

Now I’m stuck in this view

Of a life without you
The nights are long, the sky stays gray

Hope fades slow, then slips away

If I had the words to make you stay
Would you have turned, or walked away?
Was it me, or just bad timing?

Was it fate, or were we blindly
Gripping tight to something fraying
Still pretending we were flying?
Won’t you come back through,

My baby blue?
Bruce Parker Sep 11
God knows I’m a mess
I flew far away from my nest
No more rest, life moves too fast,
My old life crashed, but that’s in the past
Bruce Parker Sep 11
We drove through the night,

headlights carving tunnels in the dark,

dreaming of a future
too far away to touch.
Distracted,

reckless,

young, and high,

I made a mistake.
The tires screamed,

gravel split beneath us,

and the dirt road rose to meet our fate.

For a heartbeat I wondered,
what does death feel like?

Is it silence?

Is it cold?
Then reality struck:
you were in my car.

My hands tightened around the wheel,

my foot slammed the brake,

as I spoke into the chaos,

“You’re okay, I have you.”
But inside,
I had nothing,
not even myself.
We sat in the hush of survival,

hearts pounding in the dark.

And when the car crept forward again,

we carried a new bond,

a thread unbroken,

forever lasting.
Bruce Parker Sep 11
This weary,
bitter heart
surrenders to the earth,

nestled beneath a newborn oak.
Its roots entwine my silence,

drawing life from what I leave behind,

until I blossom once more,
a quiet bloom of wood and sky.
Now I rise in branches,

singing with the wind,

playing the most beautiful part of life.
At last,

I rest eternal
beneath the old oak tree.
Bruce Parker Sep 11
I saw you standing there

In the far corner of my room.

I lay in my bed, eyes shut tight

Feeling nothing, and everything, all at once.
When I finally opened my eyes,

they were wet.

I had cried in silence,
tears spilling from a place too deep to name.
Inside, I knew I was broken.

Yet I refused the help offered,

choosing instead to dwell in sadness,

to embrace the bitterness fully.
My feelings turned lackluster,

my mind blank,

still clinging to the past
I’m not yet ready to release.
Bruce Parker Sep 10
The weight of living

leaves me broken

waiting for you,

like a stump in the soil.
I long for the love we had,

but if I stay here any longer,

I’ll hollow out and rot.
I’m done.
Not for lack of love
God,
I’ll love you to the end.
But I miss living.

And I’m sorry.
I just want to feel alive again,

even if that means
it’s without you.
Bruce Parker Sep 10
The dark, cold silence of night
The only time I feel like myself.
While the rest of the world drifts into sleep,

I wander in thought,

loosely distracted
by games and smoke.
I wonder about life,

what it means,

why it slips away so easily.
Instead of dreaming like the rest,

I crown myself king of the night:

cold,

and dark,

just as it is.

— The End —