A Million Things to do Without You...

Anywhere but here.

The rain falls in circles breaking apart the night,

they touch the sides of light, we’re still together.

The thin fabric of time separates from the future, as if it were never dependent,

then the day goes forever and we are lost.

Further from where we were before, shadows beg our return.

I wander, apart from myself.

Within a cloud, wet from head to toe.

A Self and Another…

A slightness,

In a way of being,

That is so delicate.

Like a flock of birds,

The thought of a feather

Falling,

Lightly supported by the wind.

I wonder if I’m in tune

To experience life intimately

Ideally

Or rather, only believe I am.

The restlessness forever a passenger

Who rides unwanted by my side.

Though, an image of my future self

With a calmness of mind

Allows another breath of thin air to coat my lungs,

Just enough to keep me alive,

Not quite enough, leaving me breathless.

Time Waits...

Tears are plenty, but my eyes are dry.
They follow me, but I've lost my way.
I tempt tomorrow with a kiss,
Hoping to provoke some promise.
But the water comes up to my lips and my hearts last beats fade out.

Everything's calm in the black.
I'm weightless, a feather in time,
I float just right.

The End of Night...

Ink stains the page as thin air encloses me in a suffocating moment. 
There's a black hole nearby and its danger is tempting.
I'm awash with fear, that's so unfamiliar, about a future that's so far behind. 
I'll never walk backwards, but in front I'm alone, although, really I was always alone, I just tricked myself into believing you were beside me. 
So I wander, terrified, at the end of night, realising with humility I've figured it all out. 

Unfinished...

The world lives in black and white but the moon still falls asleep outside my window, its yellow glow coating my eyelids, causing me to dream sweet dreams of you. I wish you would wake up and play, we're not finished yet, we never were.

Little Red Flowers...

Today was born by yesterday and tomorrow pushing together in a field of little red flowers. The orange sunset, remnants of those flowers crushed in the chaos. Forever I wanted to write a story, and traveled to the edge of night, there it was, its faint heart still beating awaiting my breath of life. 

The Moment Between Days...

The beginning of tomorrow waits for a sign that I'm coming through, but I'm not sure if I am.
It seems easier to stay here and let the darkness of the closing day engulf me. Yesterday has already finished and it wasn't that bad, so maybe I'll wait there for you to find me. It feels safer than the dawn, with its raging furious colours and the uncertainty that their fading pattern leaves behind.