Tuesday, October 25, 2011


Looking for my voice again.....

I need you to want me

to feel the heat of you against my skin.

I need those moments where in anticipation

I can hardly breathe.

I need the seconds, I need the hours,

I need the days where I need nothing but you.

I need to feel the distance

of only air between us.

I need to see that sparkle

that tiny blue twinkle in your eye.

I need that sweet simple smile

that you only ever had for me.

I need the walls that are growing up around me

to crumble as you tear them down.

  I need anger and fear to become

words that I no longer know.

I need to slice through the scars

that are suffocating my heart.

I need to crawl and claw my way back

to the place from which I’ve run.

I need to find peace, I need to find comfort,

I need to find safety and warmth.

I need to remember you and

you need to remember me.

Saturday, October 22, 2011

Where Are The Words?

I wonder where the words will go
if I don't take the time to use them.
It's taking everything I have right now
to move through the motions of these days,
to complete the things that have to be done.
Nothing moves at my pace, in my best interest,
in the way that I want it to.
I got very used to approaching the day on my own terms,
to doing exactly what I wanted to do when I wanted to do it.
It was so good for my soul
not to have to punch a clock
or follow a schedule.
It's amazing the way all the doors and windows
were thrown wide open and I had the chance
to open myself and take it all in.
Now the time is ticking constantly
and everything is rushed and hurried.
There is no time for peace
and even less time to dream.
I miss you, introspection, it's only been a matter of days
and already you seem foreign and strange.
I don't recognize the shape you have taken
or the form that you chose.
I can still feel you near me
lingering on the fringes of my consciousness,
taunting my weary soul.
But you will not show your face in the light of this room,
you will not bring me the gift of your song.
There is an echo within me
of music that came from another time,
another place, another world that I lived in.
But here I can only hear silence
and here the silence is deafening. 

Telling Stories

I keep trying to write these words,
to make them beautiful and poetic.
I'm trying to hide within the metaphor
or behind the guise of simile
to create a tale of the hollow withered aching soul 
that is dying of a broken heart.
I want to create the illusion this is a story 
oryou a poem, or some other work of fiction.
I want  to read it and find pain in the tale,
in the misery of the longing.
I want you to appreciate the commitment
of the dedication that this weary soul has laid forth
for the one whose heart it desires.
I want your compassion and empathy
to pour themselves over the bleeding wounds
of this character I have described.
I want to see your heart melt for the subject
and the storyline as I unfold this tale for you.
I want you to lose yourself in the magic of the words I use 
and the emotions I can conjure.
I want to see your tears fall for the simple fact
that this, in reality, could happen to anyone.
I want to move and touch you 
and tear at the strings of your heart
with a story so powerful that you know it must be true.
I want you to fall to your knees in utter frustration
for the way that this story will end.
I want you to scream ultimately how unfair this all is 
and how justice must be served.
I want to leave you spent, exhausted by the depth and intensity
of the experience you have just survived.
I want you to be exposed
so that I can reach into the deepest part of your heart
and touch you from within.
I want you laid bare before me.
I want you to hear my story.