Wishing You Well

I wish you much love—
None returned.
So that you feel only
Disappointment.
I wish you many smiles—
No joy.
So that you know only
Isolation.
May your dreams wither,
And your soul cry,
And may you never
Know empathy
From another.
May your smile
Successfully
Disguise your misery,
And may others
Always tell you
To smile more.

Thin Ice

Her eyes struck my core,
Cold,
Like winter mint.
If I inhaled
I could feel the sharpness
Of the air in my lungs,
But I would never
Want to stop
Breathing in their beauty.
Each time,
Each gaze,
Each breath,
The air caught in my throat,
Burning with unsaid words,
Words that would never
Do them justice.
They were not worthy,
Not good enough
To capture the essence
Of swimming too deep,
Into overwhelming darkness,
Not knowing
Which was was up,
Which way was down,
Direction elluding me.
I could no longer breathe,
I was drowning,
But I did not want
To come up for air.
I wanted to forever
Breathe them in,
Their intoxicating beauty
Into my lungs,
Entranced
By the mystery
Behind the breathtaking blue
Of her eyes.

The Night is Better Here

The darkness is not so dark
Without street lights.
Stars peer through the sky
By the millions,
Unshrouded
By local illumination.
A breeze caresses my skin,
Unblocked
By oppressive towers.
I fall back
Into luscious grass,
Secure
In its soft, cool embrace.
Crickets chirp
Louder than ever,
Unmuted
By surrounding traffic.
I breathe in the rain
From two nights passed,
Unpolluted
By steam or gas.
The night is calmer,
Here,
In the middle of nowhere,
Where I can be aware
Of everything.

The Waltz Across my Violin Strings

There is nothing
Quite like the feeling
Of strings beneath my fingertips,
Singing, screaming, simmering.
My fingers walk the wires
In a balancing act
Of speed and placement.
One wrong step
Could bring to an end
The beauty and grace
That reaches my ears.
Sliding across these strings
With the thick richness of honey,
Gliding as gracefully
As a figure skater on ice.
This is the stage
My fingers dance across,
A more-than-life-size puppet
To them, who play on its surface,
Dancing, climbing,
Across the face of their world,
So large to them,
To tiny to me.
But the sound stirs ripples
That I feel from my heartbeat,
To the pits of my stomach,
Through my fingers, eyes, and feet.
Every skip and jump,
Every turn and leap,
And slow, wavering nervousness
Beneath such a sweet sound,
Produced from the waltz
Across my violin strings.

Illusion of Memory

I dream of you,
But your features are blurred,
Always hiding behind the veil
My mind has created
To keep you out.
And your words mix together
As though being played
On a broken record
That never stops spinning.
Your touch is soft
As though made of sand
That will drift away on the wind
The moment it is grasped,
Forcing me to wonder
If you were ever truly there
To begin with.
I reach to remove the veil,
But you are hidden in the shadows
At the very back of my mind,
My memory.
I light a candle
To illuminate this corner
And you,
But the veil catches,
And I panic before I can think,
Squeezing my eyes shut
To block you out again.
Will I ever stop running from you,
Whose memory I so desperately
Run after in the night
But can never seem to catch?
For what will I do
If you are not as I believe
And I have created a false you
To soothe the blisters
You left on my skin?
Or if you are exactly
As I thought all along,
And I was right in wishing
Never to see you again?

Change in Time

I cannot feel the time that passes,
Only the time that is gone.
I cannot sense the seasons changing,
Only the difference once they are done.
I cannot see the moon become full,
Nor watch the sun as it moves.
I cannot know the light is changing
Until it illuminates the room.
And not a day goes by
Inside my mind
That holds any weight I can feel
Until my shoulders are hanging
With the weight of the world
And my feet drag as though made of steel.
I wish time would slow down,
Give me time to look around,
Though I know time is not to blame.
I’ve been far too careless
And took it for granted
That all flowers might bloom again
At some later time
When I did not assume
I was already too busy
To take them in.

What Do You See?

I am the phantom
That haunts your reality.
You have never understood me,
Nor have you ever tried
Because I am different.
You look at me
And see what you expect
Whatever stereotype
You decide fits me.
But you are scared,
Because I do not fit any of them
And you cannot understand
How that could possibly be.
You look at me,
And see, not your opposite,
But everything you fear you could be,
Everything you despise in this world,
Everything that has ever wronged you.
Perhaps you should not use your eyes,
But your ears,
And you would hear my honesty,
As I only attempt to survive,
Like the rest of you.
Or your heart,
And you would understand my differences,
And know that they only make me more similar
To you or anyone else that pretends
To be someone they are not.
You look at me,
But you do not see me.
All that you can see,
Is the fog of your nightmares,
Masking reality and showing only
What you hope never to be,
So that you may rise above it,
And prove to yourself you are better.
Maybe then, I will go away.
But if you truly saw me,
Maybe you would not want me to.
Maybe you would see,
That all I have ever been
Is me.