The lack of sleep it creeps
into my mind.
Stoned.
I have no will to fight it.
The lonely thoughts,
the regrets.
No it won't suffice.
The melancholy pills,
kill the rational son shine.
Emboldened romance,
memories too perfect to have been true,
charge from the very bottom of my heart.
Half dreams that I hold on to,
that should be burned, buried, and forgotten.
I threw everything else away that reminded me of you.
They are all that's left.
A poor man I am,
reduced to pathetic hopes.
Scraps.
The meager meals scrounged for my soul.
It starves, but I go on.

"Taking a life, takes away all their opportunities."

Beauty strikes the heart,
and rips asunder
the vital viscera,
the furring flesh,
the mud and meat
that makes a man.
It strikes the boy hiding under the covers.
The child with magnificent dreams
of love and life, not yet lived.
It pounds, pummels, and clobbers
life back into my icy veins.
I cry, not for the pain,
but the awakening
of not having lived.
Sap galore,
but fear will not hold the reigns.
Death holds no candle
to suffocating once more.
If only hearts we could transplant
for you to see
what seed you did plant
inside me.