Serene and sober?
More like suffering and sad.
The truly sad thing is that I'm not
Sad, that is.
I'm quite happy, as things come.
Lonely, perhaps,
Yes loneliness breeds its own
Sorrow, pain, agony.
Is this an inability to love oneself;
This I am certainly unsure.
The idea of being alone I think,
Is what truly makes one suffer.
The physical aspect can be,
Overlooked?
The comfort that comes with
Knowing you have a place
Is the thing that really cures pain.
Here I sit, complaining of loneliness
With a loving family, friends and all.
The love I seek is romance;
This bond is different entirely.
A deep connection to one who,
Has no obligation to be there.
A bond forged with a complete,
Utter stranger is something
Beautiful.

I threw my darkness in a well
One wish, I'll never tell
The flick of a thumb
Splash, dream currency

An afterthought,
I walk with no shadow
Ominous spectres melt
Into the ripples of the deep

Quarters, nickles, dimes
Reflect the hopes of fishers
Casting out their demons
Cutting the line, thats a day

I’ll be ready with the palm leaves
Upon your return.
I’ll lay them at your feet as you grace
Me with your presence.
Crowds will form and chant your name,
For they know that joy has arrived.
Countless hours staring out the window;
I have memorized the stains on the glass
And made friends with the spider on her web.
If only I had a web of my own to keep you
Adhered to my side.
You said it wouldn’t be long.
You lied.
Memories sustain me.
Hope contains me.
Who do you think you are,
Toying with my sanity?
Ah, my soul’s keeper,
My grim reaper.

My fingers were trying to text you
Trying to get ahold of your voice again
Gripping, with the comfort of holding something familiar in my hands
Something my ears could float in
Cause your voice always made me feel like I was under water
But I knew if I slept there too long I would drown
My fingers were gripping the keys
Your name, a recipient
of something I knew I'd regret
But I was sure you'd be disappointed
So
I wrote a poem instead

You usually make breakfast,
But this morning you were in bed.
To find your arms around me,
On your shoulder lies my head.
You normally don't use perfume,
So I breathe in the human smell,
Your arms around me get tighter,
Longing, is what our actions yell.
I nuzzle my face to your collarbones,
Your face buried in my hair.
I pulled your ear and said,
"Make breakfast, I'm hungry.
We can just share."
But you laughed as you bit my ear,
"But I'm already having it.
You're my breakfast in bed."

Her skin is cold,
much, much colder than ice.
Her cheeks frozen,
unnerving.

Her eyes
deep, deep black
with that stagnant stare.
She blinks.
Only for a second, she blinks.

Her lips crack
as she speaks
- nothing comes out.
Darkness enters

Fear is real.
I face her everyday.
She stares back at me
I try to look away.

No escape.
Never escape.
Run, run
as fast as you can