Scars
it’s just a small cut
and it’s the last time, I swear
until the next one
–
self destruction
a trail of history
on my arms
it’s just a small cut
and it’s the last time, I swear
until the next one
–
self destruction
a trail of history
on my arms
since you got sent home
I’ve been sitting by your side
praying you’ll return
–
waiting-
trying not
to lose hope
a cold winter night
staccato rain on the roof
you, keeping me warm
–
winter’s eve
with you, I’m
warm inside
through heavy eyelids
the siren song of blankets
calling out to me
–
weary…
stumbling
towards sleep
in the full moon’s light
a desert scorpion glows
an unearthly blue
–
silver
illumination
of midnight
watching while you sleep
your gentle breath, warm and sweet
so easily stilled
–
echoes of
silence spread
throughout the night
footprints in the grass
below my bedroom widow
revealed by the dawn
–
hidden-
disguised by the night
peering undetected
the noise in my head
a constant cacophony
that gives me no peace
–
whirlwind-
tranquility overcome
by turbulent thoughts
in twenty-two years
from now I pray I’ll still be
waking next to you
–
in anticipation-
dreaming of
our old age
the cricket’s refrain
raspy in the evening woods
fades as the night falls
–
evening woods-
crickets fade
as midnight nears