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Georgia stole the drugs in the glovebox

and traded them for passage. I don't
remember Texas. I barely remember
you.

Perhaps it’s because I miss you, the real you

or the thought of you.

It’s not like I know the difference.

There’s a certain appeal to the bruise colored haze at the bottom
of a six-pack. She sits
on the kitchen floor, knees bent
out at acute angles, shuddering shoulder
blades pressing against skin
until the fine human film splits
and she falls – splits down the center

like the bottom of the Colorado mountain valleys we hiked last spring.

The skin of her cheeks would flush in the brisk mornings and I, alone,
learned every shade of tension stretched through her shoulders
when she’d bend
over to wash her hair in the stream.
Like the willow tree bends: graceful

limbs reaching to touch a quivering reflection.

Fear and terror

hopes and dreams

a smile so bright

and aspirations so right

stiching together the seams

of a brand new life.

You linger in the scent of

Midnight...

Soaked in your presence

And absence...

Where you laid left

Lasting warmth...

In these longing arms,

Tender hands...

I wait patiently for another

Morning...

When my soul melts in

Yours like water...

Once again.

I want to be in your arms forever,
Resting my head on your lovely chest
I want to be a baby again
In your warm cuddle and embrace

My heart aches everynight I cry myself to sleep, When I have the thought that you aren't mine to keep. 

My heart aches every morning my notifications are baron, and so are my arms. All I can do is keep caring for your attitude and your charms.

Everytime I hear a bird coo, or when I even put on my shoe, all I can think of is how

My Heart Aches For You.

I'm walking by a place,

A place that has lost its reason to walk by.

Now I look at it with a somber face and a heavy heart.

I do recall the times i was here,

the joy and cause I had to visit here.

But its not those reasons that make me low.

Not the nostolgiac talks or even the cause of the past that weighs on my soul.

It is the joy of then, and lack of it now that brings me low.

The smiles that were, the smiles that aren't and smiles that could have been

The smiles that could have been.

Now instead I walk falsely,

to make light of what weighs heavy.

To make light of what weighs heavy.

I hold my head a little higher, stand a little straighter,

work a little harder; work a little too hard.

Joke a little more, laugh a little louder and smile,

Smile a little too much.

To make light of what weighs heavy at the place I'm walking by.

I keep showing up on

your doorstep when you’re

not home

I try to thread our web of

memories through a

needle that’s too small

I keep gazing

through gaps in the

cape you’ve thrown over

your shoulders so I

can’t touch you again

I laugh so

often but I can’t see

myself crying for anything

but you

I try to redraw our fading

photograph on so many different

kinds of paper until

my fingers are raw and

bleeding

I wake at the

exact minutes I remember

something happening, like

11:19.05, the almost magic in the

water that night

I almost hold your

flaws higher than

your perfections, but then

I can’t remember either of

them, just the

way you looked

at me

I keep

forgetting that

your address has changed when I

want to send

you letters and

spoonfuls of time

I nurse my bad

habits because I

don’t know how

to give them away

I keep

forgetting that

you don’t own me anymore