While sometimes alone

I’m smiling brightly and yet

Feel it on your face.

There will always be a question,

A doubt, a brace, a fear.

A stir that remains within the mind.

As a wind through a willow,

Strands will flutter, without foundation.

Drifting leaves sharply set.

Backdrops against a starless sky,

Illuminated with inner lights.

Each snuffed by self-doubt.

The cool reflection of autumn’s face

Serenely ripples by.

A promise made of honey, yet lives.

Sweetest taste of peppermint,

Thus jaded, grows pale.

A beauty once bright, dims.

Hazelnut brews gently,

Calmly cracking, craving within.

A tear caressing our bond.

Night fondly rests upon the valley,

But never within our reach.

For sleep, is forever another’s prize.

Don’t know what I need

Or really what I want now,

But you made me smile.

Your silence ails me

A plague deep within my bones,

Burning into ash.

I’ve been hurt before,

So I’m pushing you away.

It’s not personal.

Yet that’s not at all what I mean.

The words are jumbled around you

Like colors without a hue.

A painting without a subject

Without direction,

Without life.

Peace refuses to come

While my mind’s anxiety’s throne

Oppressed by unmoving silence.

Yet, ashamed of mistrust unearned

By loyal words and an even tongue,

Tempered by understanding.

Friendship is what I need.

All else is confusion.

And thus I am…

Can I not just stop?

For the fingers surrounding me

Claw deeply, cutting flesh.

The tendrils of the mind flailing,

Drenched in desperation

Floundering, pathetic.

Heart at a cross,

Both craving and still

Satisfied in laughter.

Starving thin,

Yet ashamed to ask,

Afraid to suggest what cannot.

Glass crumbling in my chest,

Retracting fragments

Corrupt reflection.

Blurred vision…

Rest.

I cannot stand how

Sometimes your name slips gently

From my shaking lips

My heart’s so broken,

I’m still coughing up blood.

That’s a lie; still numb.

Soft as candlelight,

Your eyes peer into mine,

Unpainted thoughts caressing,

The empty canvas of our souls.

Our desires, merely sketches,

Light lines curving gently,

Barely lingering,

Just enough to feel.

Our words, unwoven memories

Strewn across the floor

Tangled melodies, unsung

Our dreams reflected.

What are we to do,

With two broken hearts?

Are all the pieces here?

Do they even fit?

Where do we even start?

For twisted shadows of our pasts

Haunt our every step.

Sometimes you have to write;

Free the voices that beat against,

The walls of your soul.