fighting, lost phone

Eyes drooping
but
heart flying

Pulse racing
but
warm blankets

Soft bed
but
burning stomach

So tired
but
can't sleep

I've lost my phone
and
it has my alarms.

Missing You

The string on your necklace

is my arms around your neck

the charm on your heart

is my head on your chest.

Your jacket on my shoulders 

is your warm embrace

Your shirt at night

is my saving grace

The ring on my finger 

is our hands entwined

and they all remind me

that you're all mine. 

Every day makes a new stitch. 

Red string, criss crossed over my skin,

Tying me up tight,

So all the broken pieces stay in.

Love

Slip the knife between my ribs
And lie
Tell me that
I'll survive
And when the world
Falls away
Tell me that
I'll be okay.

Time Marches On

I feel like I'm standing on a ledge that leads up to a precipice. Behind me, time's hand. It is pressed flat against my back and, no matter how I dig my heels into the dirt, it pushes me forward. As I reach out to those around me, in order to slow down, God laughs and the pressure increases.

We grip each other as we are pressed forward to the edge. I must jump first. I will jump first.

I will crouch before springing forward over the darkness. My arms flung wide to embrace the mist that rushes up to greet me. I am to blaze that mist away for him. The path I make is his to follow, a taste of what his future holds.

 When I touch that mist, I turn and look back up to the sky. Blue fills my vision. A pure blue. Then I see his face, peering over the edge of the cliff. He's watching me, conflict in his eyes. He loves me, supports me, but does not want me to leave.

Half of me wants to stay on that ledge with him. But gravity is dragging me into the canyon, until all I see around me is mist. There is no place to look but down. So I twist my body to face my destination, and embrace it fully.

It will be hard to climb back up to the other side. Harder still to watch him make that jump.

Then we will be forced to walk. Him at the bottom of his canyon, and me along a long, dusty road. For how can the world be green when we are missing from each other? I will walk along the edge of the canyon, pressed ever onward by that great, invisible hand, and stare down into the darkness.

For even as we are apart, I must believe that I will be able to see him, any sign of him, in the swirling depths.

After what seems like an eternity, he will climb out of his canyon stronger than ever before.

And I will be there. Waiting to fold him into my arms.

In that moment, when I finally get to hold him and not fear when time must take him away, the sky breaks open. The rain calming the dust and drawing out the green life that had been dorment.

... if that is our ending, why do I feel like crying?

Being Alone, Even with a Book

Sinking
Past thoughts and feelings
Past Ink and pages
Until nothing.

Then I sit
In darkness
and wait for
the light to arrive.

Pleading

if only
I could still this time
forever.

Please,
Please,
Please,
Don't make me
Pierce the sun.

It's brilliant and warm.
It's almost all that is good.
And yet,
I feel like,
You're shoving a bow in my hand,
forcing me to draw the arrow back,
and take aim.

Please let me put the arrow down.
Please change the aim to the ground.
Or change the arrow to something less
sharp.

Please don't make me be the one who breaks him.

It would break me too.

Waiting Game

If not one path,
which one?

I'm still a small
small fetus,

When will I
become a swan?

Glass

I'm watching
as you're dancing in the rain
on shards of glass.

Not caring how they hurt you
Not caring how they cut me

Only caring about your dance.

But,
It's not surprising,
that when I want to dance,
you're tired and sore.

I would wear shoes
and my underwear,
but I will not join you
as you tear your feet apart.

The Moon and the Sea

I can no more push the sea
than you can,
yet the moon does it
so effortlessly.
Why can I not be like the moon?

Separation

The ground is shaking
cracking, falling,
thundering,
and across the destruction,
I see you.
We are no longer
as close
as we once were.

Am I the cause of this
Not so quiet
destruction?
Or is this
completely
natural?

Waiting

Hands dance,
around a point.
But not nearly
as fast as
they could.

Your Words

Your words hit me

Like water through sand,

Slowly,

Seemingly ineffective,

But

You don’t see,

When they slip beneath the surface,

The mess they make.