Monday, April 6, 2015

Unrequited in an age of quiet requiem


There are times I write words down, beautiful words,
words I then erased because you would see
yourself as I would see your self,
unsure, nursing a sense of self unseen
except only to yourself. Selfishly, I finish
my train of thought, forgetting it goes nowhere
now, here, where thoughts abound,
surrounding the implausible boundlessness
unrepentant, somewhat petulant. Parting, we part reluctantly
on my part, taking a moment
to notice, I take far too much to heart.

Sunday, March 29, 2015

I'm afraid of the man


I'm afraid of the man
whose dreams are lonely memories
of embraces achingly desolate
of loves long since forsaken
of touches barren, solitary
reflection in an empty room.
I am afraid I am that man.

Friday, March 20, 2015

Saturday, February 21, 2015