~    
        All the poems I write
     are just the beginning
                              and end
               of every thought
   I've ever had about you.

Nightfall slowly fades away
    The sun rise takes its place
Clouds of smoke float
             through the air
And the glare from the tv reflects it
      in perfect patterns of white and gray
The sight of the light sends shocks
            through the unrested body
The mind slowly escapes through a dream
         of the sun
written with poetry

I finally figured a piece that could fit
     Decent enough to mention
          That gets deeper with each visit
     And though it wasn't my intention
       We invented vivid scriptures Shakespeare would weep to
           Crackheads could sleep to
       That's just the calm of absolution as it creeps through
         We never needed a deity's forgiveness or god to bear witness
   To this **** that we do behind closed doors cause in these moments I'm finally yours

      And that's all that should matter

Every song you ever said was about me
I play on repeat
Singing along to all the words that hopefully still mean something
Titles and tracks that shuffle on a loop
Somehow constantly reminding me of you
And I can't seem to forget the words you wrote too
But what means the most
Is something only you can do
When you sing to me
And I can feel that every word is true

She faded into the shadows
        of the love
             she wished she could forget
She solemnly swore
        to drown herself
               in the memory of her regret
Her eyes burned at the sight
         of the lost love
             she'd erased years ago
Her thoughts wondered
         and traveled to places
               she never meant to go
Life attacked her before
         she was even ready
                to feel the pain
Love forced her into the storm
         before she'd even
                 experienced **the rain

Like colors on a wheel
We compliment each other
We're complete opposites
Bringing out the best in each other
So rough around the edges
With a smooth consistency
Mixed with some clashed feelings
And a fine tuned delicacy

Today bears the weight of erstwhile trepidation.
Uncertainties exhumed only to be hung up as ominous flags.
Black as night my widowed heart paraded through the procession.
Garbed in ash encrusted, sequinned frock, hemmed train all tattered in rags.

Herald the face with no features yet obscured behind a chiffon veil.
In hands, a bouquet of black roses, worm-eaten to the stems.
The mourning sun only gave the weakest glow,
feeble attempt to rejuvenate all that is stale;
to imbue the shimmer back into forsaken jewels and dulled gems.

Her entourage kept up with heavy feet; all grim and sullen.
Also faceless... Armed with pitchforks and torches.
Today they will draw much; having thirst for crimson.
Today they witness her death as the black parade marches.