The stars are falling into my eyes, and falling out of it, in a shape of a tear.

you came to me,
and told a poem
you've wrote for me

i didn't like it
for it lacked
some kind of wit
that i was finding

another fellow came to me
and wrote the same kind of
poetry

i loved it, not because
it's lovely
but because his looks
were charming

i brushed you off
not knowing why
for maybe i was being
sly

i got too busy looking
at facades to later
then be filled with awes
when i should be looking
at the innermost that i
could live to be engrossed

to see you now
writing poems, which are good
to read utmost
but those words that are written
aren't for me no more

the moon’s a cradle
for lonely souls. gracious night,
slightly cold. the stars
are hung for all the children
who need to find a way home.

Nights are filled with the harsh winds of winter,
The darkness from dusk to dawn toyed with you,
Lights are dimmed but shine as you re-enter;
Eyes filled with tears as wet as morning dew.

You fall onto the bed, your heart is aching,
I stand there not knowing how to fix this,
Silence fills the room, you are breaking;
You go numb, I give you a final kiss.

As I shut your eyes... I cry out to you,
The once silent room is now filled with screams,
My world without you is a dark grey hue;
My life is to be ripped all at the seams.

I must end it all to be with my love,
Heartbreak can ****, I will see her above.



                                     t.h.

His smile is wide,
               But his scars are deep,
                 His eyes are bright,
               But his pulse is weak,
                 His heart says fight,
               But his mind says die.
                 His hand is steady,
                 As he ends his life.

Red seeps out from my arms,
Tears leak down to my cheeks.
What have I done?
Is this...
Really who I've beome?
Staring at the red pooling at my feet,
I'm already in so deep.
I can't escape this horrid scene.
Why did I have to be so mean?
Why can't I be nice for a change?
Instead, I'm over here acting like a firing range.
Please forgive me,
And with those final words, I was finally free.

I wish I could tell you
that I understood your pain
but my neurons and nerves and thoughts
do not match your mind
but I think I empathize
or sympathize
I never could tell
and I never could understand