Warning

This place I find you

the clouds mirrored in your eyes...

Temporary

We are the paint peel chipping
dangling over the prickly
bushes
waiting with an eye
toward falling
I wonder who I will be
when I am cut and
bleeding 
I wonder who I will be
when I have
given up

It is like the blanking of
a color screen
the bleaching of dark
green carpeting
hold my hand for just
a little while
We are moving
and fading
on and on

Trapped

when I am the snow without the season

made to believe in the riddle

but not the reason

what should I have asked you to bring? 

one shelter for seeking

one memory good enough for keeping

when I am

waiting

forgotten

trusted

to accept what cannot be

because after all of this

what was your plan

what is to become of me?

The year after

oh how I loved you

more than the tides could ever

love the moon

but now silence mocks the faithful

as I ripple with the green grass

go blind from the apathetic sun

Forgotten

I woke up as a fairy in the empty restaurant next to the woods.  I suppose I always knew when I wanted to live in the dollhouse in the attic that my hopes and dreams beat inside of a tiny heart.  But not until I opened my eyes and found myself crouching in the furthest corner of the kitchen pantry did I know for certain.

I had been gone for a year—where, I couldn’t say.  Some industrious housekeeper within had thrown huge dust covers over much of my memory, but I wasn’t sure I minded.  Something about the twilight endlessly falling over the woods told me that the last good day had been long ago.

So Far Away

You were a picture in a book                    nestled between a cranny and a nook             where I could close my eyes and see       but the library locked its doors        and I am prostrate on the floor                       you do not belong to me               you do not belong to me

Damocles' Sword

We ate dinner that night in almost total silence—or, should I say, I pretended to eat my dinner while Bryan just sat there, lost in space and nursing a large tumbler filled with whiskey.  His excessive intake of alcohol was starting to worry me, although I would have died before I told him this.  He might have thought I still cared about him then.