How Things Used to Be

Remember the time,
in the middle of spring
when we lie next to each other,
my head on your chest,
your heart beating in my ear.

Your fingertips grazed
strands of my golden hair,
gently brushing them away.

Our chests moved together,
rising
falling
with each calming breath.

Your rough skin felt like satin
against my bare arms.

Remember how my eyes gleamed
with crystal tears,
how I lifted myself to look
into your eyes as I said
"I love you"
for the first time.

Remember how you smiled
as your hand reached for mine.

I touched your face
and smiled back,
the perfect moment.

Please,
try to remember
how you loved me too.

Your Heart, My Hand

There's a hollow where love used to be:
for compassion, hatred, emotion.

But only from others' perspectives.
To them,
your eyes are icy crystals
they never fully thaw.

To me,
they are soft snowflakes
melting in the heat of my breath.

They follow
as my finger traces a line
from your temple (your weaknesses)
to your chest (your strengths)

Don't look now,
but I've got your heart in my hand. 

On the Battlefield (a sonnet)

An atmosphere darkened by grey mist
Stains of blood lining the ground
Hearts of families crushed in his fist
A parade of noise but he hears no sound

Death gently whispers in his ear
Adrenaline pumps through blood filled veins
Is this excitement or is this fear?
Seen lives lost but he feels no pain

In outstretched arms he holds his gun
Killing machines they all possess
The horrible things that he had done
Blindly programmed as success

Their bodies lie in a wakeless bed
He will not stop 'till all are dead

Gleaming with Hope

Rays of sun cascade
onto the dying grass,
now gleaming with hope.

The rain falls
in harmonious pattern
on the roof.

Just.
One.
More.
Chance.

Beyond

The sheets by me
Lie cold and empty.
                                             Visions of futures
                                             Fade in my mind.
I resist resistance
Though it is tempting.
                                             I only wish
                                             I'd had more time.
It feels to me
That I am dreaming.
                                             I have no wish
                                             To shed a tear.
Death to me
comes very easy.
                                             The afterlife
                                             Is what I fear.

For Once in Your Life

glistening steel
the sharp metal
                               hums in my ear
"Would it matter?"
                               one way to find out
"Is it worth it?"
                               no way to find out
"Do you care?"
                               ...do I care?
                                   tell yourself,
                                    you do.

the truth lingers in my mouth
like the taste of blood

"Are you lying?"
                                it's obvious.
"Close your eyes"
                                follow instruction.
"Smile."

worth it or not
all that matters is:

"For once in your life..."
                                           I'm happy.

I Am

I am the cold blue light
reflecting from
shimmering snow banks.

They gather,
surrounded by orange,
huddled together
behind glass windows.

Every so often,
one will stray
to where I lie,
alone.

But only for a moment,
before racing back
to the clear warmth
behind transparency.