When You’ve

Made the wrong choice,

And the chips fall,

Where will

I cast myself

Next?

Will I ever tame

My own

Mind?

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I Wrote You A Love Song

And you didn’t want

To

Hear it, you had written

Many of your

Own.

Perhaps I Wrote it anyway,

Out of foolish pride,

And carried it with me

In a deep place,

Where we

Were Yue and Sekhmet,

And we

Weren’t too far away.

But that was my mistake, and

My anger my own

Fault.

And I must let all this

Rest

Behind me, your world is too

Different than mine,

Too set on your war,

Your villains,

Your adventure, there

Is no room there,

For

A

Love song.

And it snows

A blanket of

Cold white falling

Over a dying

Landscape, bedded

Down for the long sleep until summer.

Eagerly awaiting the warmth of the sun,

And I sit inside,much

The same.

Your Name

In my screen,

Your face staring almost

Apologetically

Back into my own, plain

Astonished

One.

I had already accepted

That I would

Never see you

Again, hear your voice,

Embrace you.

Why now?

I was so close

To moving

On.

Faceless

In a crowd,

One of many

Costumed, uncostumed,

A parade

Of characters

And animals,

Brilliant

And obscuring.

And it is

It’s own

Kind of

Silence.

I Feel You

So intensely,

Perfect one, sweet one

Funny one.

I never thought

I would bask in the

Warmth of your

Light again.

But there you are,

And still

So far

Away.

Relax

You cannot bleed only

Anxieties and

Insecurities.

Face that voice and know

That you are

You,

And that must

Be enough.

Drink yourself,

Girl.

Nothing will ever taste as sweet.

Pick Up

The pieces,

Your chin,

Yourself.

The years March on

With or without you, and

So the world turns

Without him

Too.

Keep moving,

Flowers only

Bloom where soil

Is fertile.

You cannot sew

A

Lifetime in

Scorched earth.

Here

I at least,

Get to see you,

Admire you

From afar.

I wish, sometimes,

That impossible as

It is,

You saw me too.

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