Hope

Hope there is a reason.  Hope I’ll find out.  Hope it’s a mistake. Hope it’s anything but what my brain says it is. Hope to hear from her. I’m burning alive, breaking apart; shattering reforming and shattering again and again, minute by minute and gods help me I’m listening to Bella Morte.

Blackout

My one link to her severed. I’m eviscerated, empty, destroyed. Hoping it is some kind of mistake, some kind of error. Clinging to that hope, but fearing, fearing it’s not.

Maybe I’m too much, too intense, too romantic, too everything. I don’t know. I never know, until I’ve gone too far. Said one thing too much.

Missing you

I’m not sure how I do this but I’m missing you.  
Somehow, I’m missing your kiss.
Missing your touch.
Missing the feel of your hand in mine.
Missing your voice and your thoughts.
Missing you, though we’ve never touched
But somehow
I’m missing, yearning,
needing with a sense of longing
a sense of being homesick.
You are my home, my heart, my love

Waking up

Waking up
I find myself thinking of you
the thought of you stretching as you wake
the simple pleasure of seeing your consciousness flood into you
beautiful
welcoming you to the day
welcome my love
welcome my heart
welcome
welcome

Reason I couldn’t sleep #11

The wolf statue that stands guard over the raven feather the wind gave me was facing the wrong direction and the feather was positioned wrong as well.  Didn’t realize until this morning.  

One of the ocd people in my house must have seen the books on that shelf leaning over and used the wolf like a bookend.  Nope, nope nope. 

Clouds part the night sky

And when the shadows bleed away
I’m left with all I want to say
These tattered dreams
these hopes made clear
bound down and weighted by all I fear
(note: not about anyone. I love you, GMH.)