Friday, March 18, 2016



There's a pain that hurts
and pain that heals;
A pain that stings
like angry bees;
It may be one
that leaves you sore;
But never a pain
did I want more

There are eyes that haunt,
and eyes that soothe;
Eyes that pierce
like a razortooth;
But only once
could I behold;
Eyes that spoke
of secrets, untold

There stands a room
beside a path;
The sound of motors
in the silent dark;
Two quiet smokes
against the wall;
A sacred glow
the shadows tall

The ashes fall
and thought ignites;
A hope lingers
inside a mind;
But quickly dies
before it spreads;
This spark of wonder
a quiet death

It sneaks around
to find a home;
This quiet Hope
crushed to the bone;
It may have tries
to return anew;
Were it not trapped
where memories grew

Now no more
do the faces glow;
Against the wall
or the room's shadow;
The sole survivor
is the motors' hum;
And there lies Hope
with its funeral drum.


I want you to scream
for me.

I want you to burn,
at the thought of her next to me,
when you know that I am happy,
and you know that's what you want for me,
so you must stay at bay

I want you to flush,
from shame,
when you tell your friends,
how long you have been wanting me,
how really its just all a joke,
And why you couldn't move on.

I want you to cringe,
and wince,
when you look me in the eyes,
and try to hold my piercing gaxe,
but fail, and look away.

I want you to cry,
and shudder,
when you lie awake at night,
when you wonder why there's no one there,
and wish I were by your side.

I want you to sigh,
and ponder,
how it is you have said it all,
how you know there is no hope,
but you keep trying, even so.

I want you to feel,
in short,
the slightest hint of passing days,
dying for every second spent,
feeling this for you.

I want you now to forget,
all but the first three words,
of every stanza above.