An old poem

My hair tangles and forms an
unspoken link
between us.

Our hands intertwined,
much passes between us.
Cheek on cheek, we communicate
more than anyone allowed us.

Our parted lips connected,
for less than a minute
A memory formed forever in our hearts
too pure a feeling for the
animal, minimal form.

A clear glint of happiness in your irises
pale from the passing light.
Hold me up high,
a new melody teach me
I ache for this feeling,
to feel renewed.



(note: this poem was written 2 years ago, just didn't post it here.)

Burnt Butterfly

I love you so but I pretend.
It's easier to burn the butterfly
then let it soar to the dark grey sky.

A dark grey city leaves me tearless.

Upon the drops of rain,
I look through the windshield and wonder
if it could be let in?
The patter of feet on the long hallway
answered my heartbeats.


And and she said I had nothing to worry about.How could I not?
How could I look into your face and say
what I want?

Better to just burn the butterfly and
in its turbulent beauty let the
ashes out into the wind.
Sealed lips,
are lips bulging with unsaid thought.
I long to drink something
to swallow down the urge to fight myself and just speak out.

I would drink you down in a long,
breathless shot.
You would.....sip on the tea.

"Sorry," is the last words you said to me as you turned away.

Am I not losing myself a little more everyday?

I can try and try to shake it off,
but the sight of this wooden cross
you hacked out of my bones
is a stake thro the heart.

Like purging me of plain desire
None the less wiser
I will lie in another's arms.

With the drink in my nose,
a scented candle lit by the window.