Twisted corpses
Of loves long gone
Call from across the room
As I stare
And stare
Until my heart breaks in two
Unable to glance away;
Unable to meet your gaze.
You're such a shapeless shell
Of days since past,
Having lost your substance to time
And belittled feelings
As I stand
Motionless,
Petrified.
I am but a pair of eyes now,
a shattered soul-
Still hoping,
Still wondering
If all I ever loved was a lie,
A cruel farce you'd never admit.
I cannot bear your cutting words,
Your effervescent laughter,
As you live a life renewed;
As I linger,
Wistful,
In your wake.
I'm bleeding inside,
These wounds too fresh to cauterize,
Your vision too much to bear
In the aftermath of our destruction,
The clanging bells of calamity
Still ringing in my shellshocked ears-
I struggle to find meaning
In the caustic remnants
you left me to puzzle over;
The scattered pieces of reasoning
That will never add up to a whole picture,
A sane answer.
Scorched and hollowed,
I can't bear this sight any longer,
As my heart smolders with hatred
And thoughts of revenge,
Consuming me
As though I were tied to the stake
That you deserve to burn on instead.
Come now,
Let's end this-
This dance of charades,
This play of puppets and toys-
I'm not your plaything anymore,
And I deserve the happiness
That you sought to steal for yourself.
Come now,
Let's accept it,
These sad monuments that you've erected
From upon your mighty throne,
The confusion you bestowed
When you left me all alone.
After all,
Fate had no say in this,
No approval to grant,
To this end-
You and I both know
You only have yourself to blame.

Free to fail like leaves in winter
His love will only sometimes linger
Like the fall of lovers crush
She'll win them all bare ly out of touch
Held together like ink to paper
Blurred into memory or a colorful sublime
These tears fell like wood forests hole punched and lined
Like a Lamp lit nightstand useful twice a month
Clandestin calamity chorus of wind chimes
Composed
Dually noted measured and fallen in time
Conceived  
Dear John's pinned on porcelain; pined
Convexity
Leafs seasoned in carved tree vellum
Divined
Like dried roses smoke & mirrors the mind

The Deerfield keeps me. My eyes follow the treeline testing my wit, tossing new exemplary corybantic lights. They zoom around me in hurried whirling motion. Then you appear. You can have my moon and my planets, my stars, and I haven't even spoken yet. In the midst of an earnest offering to the first of three heavy drinking boisterous uneasy types. I tell the stranger I'll drive him the, but what- .2 miles to his home- and your light exaserbates my speech.

Maybe you thought I'd go for your nose, but I'm after your breath. Rightly so, too many men have squandered much of the joy from being superfluously strangely with strangers. The drunk party exits screen left, and a new character, a Kennedy evolves from the shadows.

[This is where you begin conducting]

My thoughts brim with colors, patterns, shades, and hues. I paused to take in these profound chakras I thought had become the desiccate dusty footprints, walking around Foley's pond trying to find the best fishing hole through the rough and tangled undergrowth that consumed those hours of my life.

Your writing is far better than mine was at your age.
There is depth and richness in the vocabulary you choose.
Let me kidnap you for a day, present you with the places I like to let
My eyes gaze upon. Between the thatchwork of black and white and gray.

Where are my hands? The Earth is at my back, she begs me
To pry further, to know better the rejuvenating handy-work she
Has laid before me, and the noncom I mustn't reject either.

I cannot sleep. I wouldn't want to sleep if I could. I would reject it as I am. Drive until daylight casts morning into memory, I would recreate another
Fifty of exceptionally raw and indulgent exchanges. This is before the questions begin.

I inquiry myself to draw your story through the sparseness of details I ferociously gobbled up with excitement and profound wonder. I am absent in my own hours, and  yet there is frothy balance, no bedevilments of the flesh, but even so we are only the skin and bone and makings of human. I commit to protect you from harm and show you beauty and humor amidst the chaos and crisis of life's evolution. It is your excruciating curiosity and lack of fear that draws me ever more near.

Dearest Blue,
I know you may need time to recover, to think about what I said.
I understand your predicament, I think.
It came as a shock to your system, I'm sure.
And I don't blame you.
Have you responded? I don't know.
My phone has died, and I have since lost track of it.
But what I've said, I'll say again:

I like you. And I'm sorry.

Sincerely, Deni.

little love letters
emanate through fingertips
and soft kissing lips

i fell for the drummer
hes pretty cute
and, quite ironically, meeting you on my birthday
granted my wish
not even knowing who your band was or why you were here didn't matter once you started playing
after your set a girl and I got your number
you seemed so cool and my hands were so sweaty and hot that if we touched,  I don't know if I would've frozen or if you would've melted.
I guess she didn't want to text you as much as I did
but I'm kinda happy about that

we're pretty good friends now
and I guess you could say that things are going well between us
but, like a greedy child at christmas, I want more.

I really like the way your hair feels when I run my fingers through it
and when I hear your laugh, I feel the need to grab onto you, because if I don't, I will spiral into space, content with the thought of your happiness.
our conversations usually consist of 5 word sentences spread out throughout the day but honestly, I just love to see your responses

that day you gave me your number, I never really thought it would amount to anything
probably a response back to thank me for coming to the show, and that you're happy I enjoyed it
but when we started to have actual conversations
and you remembered my name the next time you saw me
i was back at square one,
hot, sweaty palms and all
shaking so hard that Taylor Swift would be proud.

but now when I see you,
its almost as if my equilibrium has balanced.
I'm comfortable around you
I see no reason to tremble in your presence
(even though that laugh still gets me).
and even though you are probably thinking that I'm just some girl who goes to your shows
I wish to be so much more.

the letter said
"yours forever and ever and ever,
Alex"

your eyes said
"you are the lens through which I see everything"

that is significant
to know that I have gathered
(like raspberries in a basket)
that many portions of

your heart

said I can unzip the veins
and slip quietly into its chamber
whenever it rains
(a snug little sleeping bag for my loneliness)

a soul is a living, breathing thing,
always growing back

(when the rains are over,
there will be more raspberries
you will offer them to me)

come May,

"you'll have all that I can possibly give,
forever."

I wrote you one thousand love letters,
But only a few were right.
I poured everything I had into them in the hopes that my pen marks would bleed through
and etch my words on to your heart.

And I know where you kept them all tucked away.
I imagined you sneaking looks at them
in late hours of the night
so you could read them silently in my voice and pretend I was there
as I did with yours.
I noted every curve of your penmanship
And memorized how you wrote as if it were a dying language.

But then you stopped looking at my notes.
The ink faded and my love was no longer legible to you.
As your words still resonated in me, mine fled from you.
And the words became sharp and venomous    
They hit me in the gut and i spit fire back because it was all I knew how to do.
And I am sorry.

While we may never again exchange folded papers filled with secrets and sweet nothings,
I hope some day you find yourself late at night
reading my love letters
you never threw away.