should have known better
fruit is always the sweetest
right before it rots
Category: Relationships
Untrue/True
if you believe the stories
i am the breaker of hearts
the stealer of souls
the crusher of the dreams
carefully crafted in their deluded minds
i am the cruel
cold
indifferent
heartless
lilith
draining all livelihood
and joy
leaving a trail of
emotionally annihilated husks
in my wake
if they ever took a minute
to examine their reflection
perhaps they would see the truth of things
but i suppose
one cannot
look into a mirror
when they spend their time
sitting in the dark
i am not the one
to illuminate their surroundings
my light is my own
Speculating Cost
i met someone
with a quiet intensity
so very
excellent at small talk
with dry
hidden humor
much loved
by the neighborhood locals
no fault
could seemingly be found
so
much like a discriminating buyer
at a curio shop
i have been inspecting
dissecting
in the hopes of
protecting
any investment
i decide to put forth
i do not like
being this way
but i have
been subject to
so many instances of
Buyer’s Remorse
my heart’s wallet
cannot afford
another loss.
Straightforward Haiku
I miss your friendship
So much more than your presence
Next to me in bed.
Splinters
How do we miss
and continue to love
the ones who have hurt us
irrevocably
is it the moments
though brief
full of promises
promises
never kept
always broken
(breadcrumbs for
emaciated birds)
shards of
good intentions
scattered
slicing
through stubborn
normally thick
skin
with ease
(tis but a flesh wound…)
like tiny splinters
hidden deep under fingernails
there throbs
a constant pain
of remembering
what was
what could have been
what will never be
heart-broken haiku
i dare not reach out
though the temptation extreme
this resolve pains me
stir-crazy
my fingers twitch
an itching under the tips
a nervous searching
for the smooth feel
of the skin
across your cheekbone
they tap
impatient and out of sync
a restless dance of
digits
unable to sit
still
my mouth
a continuous
phantom tingle
tickling
my lips
so i keep them
pressed tight
to dismiss
them missing you
because
they are not kissing you
the memory
of that
the faint brush
tender touch
of lips
lingering soft
but urgent
against yours
sharply inhaling
the exhale
of
your breath
wistful
the days
slowly yawn on
while
i yearn
for that
blessed moment
when
we were one
Sunday
It is Sunday.
Just another day
which was supposed to be ours.
Yet
Here I am
Alone
Realizing that
Days don’t belong
to anyone
They are just
measures of time
fading into the nothingness
of the
eventual forgotten
Still
it is Sunday
Just another day
Yet
I haven’t the Heart
The Desire
Nor the Wish
to share it with
anyone else.
Haiku for a fool
Her cries to the sky
Agonizing against
The aching goodbye
the rain
it’s raining and i miss you.
i wish you knew how extraordinary a thing that is.
the rain talks to me
softest pit-pat of drops against the glass pane
like
a gang of cats jogging across hot summer pavement
too quick to count
slightly silent
save for the rhythm
a staccato in unison
what a paradox
but it’s singing to me
and i think of you
your voice
(sweet songs kissing my ears)
your words
(drowsy mumbled love notes late at night)
and echos of
your laughter
(the happiest of dreams)
it’s raining and my arms feel empty
(where are you)
my hands restless
(i need to touch you)
the gnawing ache in my stomach
(i am empty)
my body is in a frenzied disparate hunger
one which cannot be easily sated
appeased
quelled
so
alone
i listen to the wind
whipping water
at my window
imagining
it’s you next to me
speaking to me
singing to me
whispering to me
instead of
the rain
But Otherwise Fine 