Powerless.

She flung words at me;
they struck me in the heart
stuck like letter magnets on a refrigerator
arranged like a work of art.
This is her way of crying.
This is also mine.

Shine.

My every hue is just another shade of you.

Prayers.

Who are you to me
but the keeper of confessions
and secrets of mine?
These words?
They'll mean nothing with the passage of time.
If only I could leave
something more than momentary behind-
maybe, then I could rest in peace.

Release.

The raindrops feel altogether different today
under the same skies but days far from old.
I am disappointed how fickle
my love for something as inevitable
and certain
as falling water
fades so easily
with the changing the seasons
and the chapters of my life.
Maybe it wasn't meant to be;
perhaps my love is better invested elsewhere.

Motionless.

At times it feels like I'm sitting by the corner of a street
watching everyone go by
concerned with their "matters of consequence"
places to go, things to do
only stopping momentarily because the lights say "don't walk"
so we spend a moment together
unnoticed
and then they move on
and I'm still sitting here, anonymously
at the corner of two streets everyone knows.

Drought.

Losing myself lying on the grass
watching clouds give birth
and pass;
I lose track of the time
and it slips out the backdoor
without saying goodbye.
I am finally alone
and it should be obvious to me why
but I'm too caught up watching the sky.

Sanctuary.

The more I think of you
the more I realize I'm still alive
and should be doing more
than just trying to survive;
so I find myself wishing again
that I could take this piece of crumpled paper
flatten out the creases
and fold it into something beautiful for you to see
because right now I'm not where I want to be.