Won't You Open Up Your Eyes?

You wake up
on a bright, cold morning,
and realize that the gray mist of lonely--
the faded presence of empty--
has been weighting your eyelids for far too long.

You blink,
and the silver ghost of sorrow
falls from your lashes,
and the morning is glorious.

The buttercup beams filter through
your gossamer curtains,
and dance a golden ballet above your head
as you drink the sky like water
and smell the clean that is dawn.

The world is new and soft
and bright
every morning.
And you life is cold and clear
and free
every night;
everything is perfect.

The sun is up,
the sky is blue,
it's beautiful
and so are you.


note: both the title and the last stanza are from Dear Prudence by the Beatles.

My Eyes Are Blue Like Yours.

Your fingers are like rain,
and as they run down my wrists
they are cold and they are winter.
Your fingers are white
like winter.
They are slow and sudden at once
like winter.

And your autumn eyes melt
what your winter fingers freeze,
and they smolder in crackling waves of amber,
and they are dying from want of life.

The springtime flowers bloom in your lips,
and warm storms thunder in your voice,
and when you kiss me,
it's like dew on grass;
it's like a milk white sunrise,
like a bleached dawn mist.

Your words bring the the summertime light,
and the bright July nights;
your words bring the smoke-laced tears
of the last summer sunset.
And your words are the salt-blue waves
that burn your throat when you laugh,
and burn your eyes when you smile,
and burn your winter fingerprints
onto the white of my wrists.

You Are My Candlelight.

With your moonlight-drenched,
gold-tipped fingers,
there is nothing you can't do.
My eyes cloud with a pearly veil of hope
as you turn my heartache to happiness,
my failures to brilliance,
my tears to butterflies.
My heartbeat gives your words a rhythm,
and that is the lullabye that beckons me into
the sweet, velvet dark of sleep.
And as your lips turn raindrops to rainbows,
and as your eyes turn castles to clouds,
keep the glow of my smile inside you
and know that you have changed me
into something beautiful,
something light.

Let's Hold Hands and Drink Hot Cocoa

With your head against a frigid window, a rush will pour into your bones and leave you shaking and empty and sad and smiling. With the scents of smoke and peppermint, winter will throw itself at you in an icy lace cage of emotion-- this summer sunset is finally the last; the air no longer rings of freedom and endlessness, but instead the lonely, cold comfort that only October nights can bring. Peaches will fade into fires, and the world will cluster in close as we mourn the loss of sand and salt and turquoise.

His Lips Were Soft and Hers Were Cold.

There's a strange beauty in being broken.
A honger for loneliness,
a fear of the sunlight that is,
now,
almost unrecognizable.
There are remnants of
that unfamiliar light--
illuminating your eyes,
shining from your cheeks.
There is a ghost of hope,
plated with gold and fragile as autumn air,
that you can fix what is broken
and end the ceaseless, empty longing
for forever.

i miss you :( i'm sorry i haven't written anything in so long. i love you <3

Remember Me as a Time of Day

Remember me as

the cold midnight air

and as the golden dawns reflected

in your Skyline Eyes.

Remember me when

the sun slips below the horizon

and breathed beauty into

the cold concrete world.

Remember me like

the clouds that fade out of the sky,

when the heat makes us feel alive,

as we sleep and smile and sit very still.

And I can look out the window towards the sunset and the skyline...