stare, let your eyes take in this scene

as an ocean of night drains through the gap.

the longer you look, the more desolate your perception.

stare on, but your eyes will not repair the broken window.

three weeks undone, crumbled, wasted, to be forgotten.

how long the stone remained on your nightstand,

while you peered through the panes, at the world outside.

three weeks passed. the stone flew; the glass fell.

fool, what a failure to fall to the same trick.

you must repay your debt and replace the broken panes.

but you cannot, you are scum thrown to the street.

foolish one, you are worthless and hopeless. despair.

no! i will not remain a prisoner to my failures.

what use is it to dwell in a house i despise?

if i leave the house the memories will fade.

forget it! my debt has been paid and i will move on.

i looked upon the autumn sky,

whose tears were perched,

upon pillar trees and ocean's breath.

they were stranded for you and i.

should we become united,

will the tears run for joy,

to enlighten our swollen eyes,

and brazen our fading smiles?

should we become tragedy,

will the tears fall in agony

to trace our weeping faces,

and burn our words to ashes?

i remember when life was bliss,
open arms were all we knew,
and honest words all we heard,
because we lived in ignorance.

when awakened by the birds' symphony,
our eyes opened to dancing sunlight,
and every night we'd rest our heads
upon the certainty of the coming dawn.

but our day came; the sun ceased to rise.
our world changed; and we forgot the past.

a cloud shrouded your eyes and
lies were etched onto your heart.
you feared truth, and all of it's secrets;
with deceit you held your own.

when they hated and reviled you,
i bore you like a scar that did not heal.
their words of spite, brittle as ice,
cut to my soul, instead of yours.

i looked into your eyes.
i questioned your heart.

"who are you?" i asked of them.

"who i have always been," they said,
"but you have loved me all along."

if eyes could be opened
and hearts be broken
mine should be first,
because my love was blind:

i let you go.

between the folds of paper,

i leave love's tenderest kiss.

from the heart to the mind

the verse of thoughts flow.

veins do not course with blood,

but with breathing, living ink.

they bleed themselves empty

to fill pages with our dreams.

must i depend on such simple wisps of night?

upon wings of fragile ink, trust my dreams to fly?

these swirls of pure, black ink

intertwine with my affections.

the portrait they have painted,

i hold ever more dearly.

but, i will not speak of this.

rather, i bury it with the pen.

would i, to any ear, share this beautiful truth?

upon a breath of wind, risk my greatest wealth?

like a rose before it's bloom,

who would pluck it from it's stem?

i cannot take the life i seek to win.

i must release it from my thoughts,

where the sun will never shine.

i will not hinder escape with words.

would i hold captive, the one i truly love?

upon such a faint path be a guide by night?

no, i will wash these dreams away

with the tides of my remorse.

beneath a rain of crimson tears,

i purge this page of it soul.

in time, it will be revived,

if my love holds dear and true.

between the folds of paper,

i've left love's tenderest kiss.

i think as if i am watched.

in my mind, everyone is conniving,

just waiting for me to fall.

they laugh at me when i fail

they hate me more with each success.

they are like vultures waiting to feast,

like hunters waiting for their prey.

open, eyes! I want to see!

silence, mind! I want to beleive!

there is more to them than i can paint.

i am not a balancing man on a wire,

the lime light is not on me at all times.

i am just like them and they are like me;

no better, no worse, desperatly in need of grace.

they are watching me now.
or have they always been this way?
perched like grim sentinels;
guards to watch my failed attempts.

don't they laugh at me every time i fall?
don't they despise my every move,
gloating over my failed attempts at flight,
my futile tries to escape this prison cell?

if only my plans could take flight!
if only my dreams would grow or bloom.
i want to be free, i don't want to live fear,
as if i should even consider their standard.

i feel like they watch me in grim silence.
they mock my lame attempts.
never speaking, never admitting,
but hanging in dreadful anticipation.

like the impending storm waits for it's moment,

i feel as if the clouds over my head long to break

at the slightest wind.

i feel as if an enormous weight has shifted

to the forefront of my mind,

from which i cannot escape.

who am i without you?

what plans can i make,

if you are not the force and ignition?