Losing You.

Two years ago, in November,

I walked through the door of my house,

I was in a cheerful mood,

I planned to see you that night.

I could feel something strange in the room,

A panicked atmosphere clinging to the air,

The hearthfire sparked and cracked

like a gunshot piercing through the world.

My mother took my arm, and sat me on the couch,

And then, she told me something so horrifying

At first, all I could do was laugh,

A highpitched, false note that seemed so distant from me.

I was refusing to believe that something

So tragic could happen to someone so dear to me,

But a tear escaped and edged down my cheek,

Like a black, winding stream tainted with mascara.

And the gates holding back the flood flew open,

And I struggled to breath between the sobs

That tore the very being from inside of me

And left it raw and red for everyone's eyes.

She told me that you had been crossing the road,

And there had been no cars in sight,

Just that your heart had stopped beating and you fell

And time had not stood still, and you did not speak.

A piece of happiness fled from me that day,

It ripped itself right from my core,

The wound never healed and now lies open,

And has since my rock crumbled away.

My soul guards secrets
that leave a darker taste,
A prison full of demons,
self serving and gruesome,
Not fit for human sight,
Though one can glimpse them
from the corner of an eye.

They are ancients in kind,
Memories ingrained in one's mind,
Of actions that still remain so,
And as it is such, Simply the
Mere curse of our condition.

And I cling to the promise
That only the weak are consumed.

#1

There's a single, impossible puzzle

that plays upon my mind.

It is all odds and evens,

Too many straight edges,

Never enough curves.

A delicate contraption that

captures such hideous fascination.

They tell me it's an acquired taste,

and given their preferences,

I must bow my head and agree.

But it wears me down,

gnaws me to the bone,

and I become a face

I scarcely recognize.

My mouth spews curses

at this trickery,

This inward scrambling,

And I fall to my knees

with a sort of ease.

Yet, the puzzle remains,

as ever, a mystery.