Vulnerable

You’ve caused my heart
a great deal of pain over the years,
though at the moment
I can’t even feel it in my chest.

There’s a certain emptiness
swimming through my inward parts,
and I don’t know when (or if)
feeling will return.

I gave you the best of me,
the most genuine pieces of myself,
and though that meant witnessing
my worst moments as well,

it also meant you saw me
when I was vulnerable and afraid,
and your callous responses remain
burned into my nightmares to this very day.

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Falling for a Witch

Cupid’s arrow
feels more like Satan’s pitchfork
through my chest.

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What I Am to You

Not the pages your eyes are drawn to,
but the bookmark that holds your place.

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Rest

This in between
without much hope,
it’s killing me
and I can’t cope.

Another letdown.
One more on the list.
I feel like a clown,
but I just can’t resist.

This game of sorts,
I’m tired of playing.
Lasting remorse,
I’m tirelessly praying.

Until the birth of tomorrow,
I’ll bow my head and rest.
Love, may I please borrow
a place upon your breast?

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Often Used

I’ll hide these tears behind my eyes
for the sake of clinging to phony strength.
If tomorrow our little love should die,
diminished will be the remains of my faith.

This pen has seen much heartbreak,
describing it in words so often used.
I wanted the fruit, I got the snake.
The turn of events left me confused.

What could justify this sudden departure?
I think to myself in the middle of the night.
You come close and then walk increasingly farther,
and I’m not sure which of us is in the right.

Praying over a daunting blank page,
moisture finally seeps into my vision.
Maybe we weren’t ready for the stage,
but I didn’t expect this head-on collision.

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Beauty Remains

fallen leaves
fresh snow
old cliches
but their beauty remains

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Up with the Birds

You’re quite the fickle soul.
Our friendship comes and goes.
Sometimes without a pulse,
sometimes devoid of lows.

I don’t know what makes you leave,
or impels you to return.
It’s an unfair cycle, I must admit,
drops of cold water on a lasting burn.

How can we go on like this?
Our paper smiles aren’t enough.
Maybe you wanted something more.
Maybe you went and fell in love.

Or maybe I’m speaking crazy words.
It’s much more likely you’re just a flake.
I’ll take my leave, up with the birds.
You won’t notice I’m gone when you awake.

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