Lost and Found

Here I am.
Rummaging through the lost and found again.
Stomaching all the pain that comes with these memories.
Why am I looking through this box?
I’m simply searching for the missing piece.
That fragment of trust I lost so long ago.
It flew away in the wind.
Scattered amoung the ashes of the wildfire that was, our love.
It came like the morning sun subtle and pleasant, but left like sun behind the mountains,
suddenly.
Bringing the following darkness.
So as the sun dipped behind that horizon, my trust just seemed to vanish.
Hidden by the vast stretching circumference of the earth.
And I was rotating in the wrong direction because I didn’t see another sunrise, till today.
This sunrise is leaving me hopeful so that’s why I’m bearing the pain of this box, this box of assorted displeasures.
All to retrieve what I had chosen not to pursue.
I chose to retrieve it.
All for you.

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Darling

Distance is irrelevant, time is non existent.
While I’m sitting here missing, the person I’ve been listening to.
Where did you go, oh have you’ve grown cold.
As these conversations grow old.
Do you reach for the stars, or shrink in glow of the night.

Oh darling, how beautiful is your soul.
I know it’s hard to see behind all the scars.
But darling, if you could see what I see you wouldn’t cry anymore.
Come with me, let me breathe life into the hollow cavity of your chest.
My darling, you are perfect and nothing less.

Can you tell me.
What it’s like to go to sleep at night.
Without the pale glow of the moonlight.
Or have you not noticed it has left your sight.
Alone in your room, with nothing but your thoughts.
Waiting for time to pass you by, while staring at the clock.
Wondering how much time you have left.
Hoping to wake up from this sleep, wondering if you will be missed in the least.

Oh darling, how beautiful is your soul.
I know it’s hard to see behind all the scars.
But darling, if you could see what I see you wouldn’t cry anymore.
Come with me, let me breathe life into the hollow cavity of your chest.
My darling, you are perfect and nothing less.

Now are you counting your blessings, or focusing on these stressful things.
Plucking at the strings, grooving to the melody.
Or burning these things, your so called identity.
Honey please, there is no need to dig any further.
Reach for my hand, I’ll pull you to the surface.
This label you’ve stamped your life with, doesn’t give you purpose.
Oh honey you were perfect, why do you keep running.
Is it because running is easier than loving.

Oh darling, how beautiful is your soul.
I know it’s hard to see behind all the scars.
But darling, if you could see what I see you wouldn’t cry anymore.
Come with me, let me breathe life into the hollow cavity of your chest.
My darling, you are perfect and nothing less.

Missing Rythmes

Each message sent,
Is one too many,
As I slowly cascade into this decent,
Feelings remain unnamed,
Unclaimed,
Though I’m connected to the anchor of their weight,
I push those feelings into the darkest corners of my heart,
I fear when I bleed they will surface,
These thoughts of you will tear me apart,
Vocalization can fix this,
Instead I choose to twist it,
Into knots in the pit of stomach,
So the butterflies will not be released,
I don’t want to wander this road,
Staring at my feet,
With my heart skipping every other beat,
Those missing rythmes,
Leaving my chest to find you,
Casting themselves free,
So some of me may remain alive,
While the rest of me dies,
Sewn shut is my mouth,
These words are trapped,
I promised myself I would not let them out,
For this river of love,
Is in a drought.

Ripped Stitches

My heart is patched on my sleeve,
Ripped more times than I can count,
Just waiting for you to leave,
I live in a world of doubt,
Prepared with needle and thread,
The words I know are coming,
Or is it just in my head.
The end is looming,
I broke the stitching for you,
This isn’t something you can just fix with glue.
Ripped at every seem,
I would give everything for you,
Is that so hard to believe,
Instead you start slipping of view,
Now I’m left here torn in two,
Out of thread,
What am I to do,
My head is filled with dread.