Your paths may cross only once.
When and where are to be written.
She may be the best for him;
But I do dream of you, even with silence for a fist full of time-
Gripped gritted and callused,
Be not mistaken, I am not intolerant, yet my patience is simply more patient than your patience in
Sometimes I miss you. Of no fault but my mind and memory, for you are not one likely to be so
I believe I found something, you left it and yet twice I'm here.
More than I can bear, the time
I swear that it is complicated. The knots foresee a snare, the banked ridge of pain, blood, and
And then she died - figuratively of course.
The love that had flown, flew dripping wing through
You were able to run. There I stood rigid in pride.
Your feet must have kicked dust times high
I love what you have done with the place.
It's all mowed and prim - aside from the sharp edges of
What if I had never met you?
Only disdain. Lack of courage, and fleeting rain.
If I was never
I found it beneath a shaded tree, and cannot let it go.
I heard it, sweet, within the night across
I let my thoughts color the pictures,
Before my spirit burns
The paper of my memory,
Where has my seething soul departed to?
For when I rifled within, hollowness greeted me with arms
A fading link decided that we were enough.
Our dispositions towards each other were to be fruitful
You hurt so bad. Though I cannot remember; be it your face or the way you used to speak to the
My aching is slow. I worry for that. I worry for what I have done to push you away and though I