Poetry_In_her_eyes

The kitchen grew organically over many years cups and plates, like vines, clinging to the cupbroads in a haphazard manner of wild plants that would sometimes fall from the shelves like young starling or sparrow only to crash on the floor not yet ready to fly More than any place in the house he found her spirit near not in the cupbroads, counters, and stove but the organization that so mirrored her mind The very same organization he complained about until she was no longer here Now, the chaos held within this shrine of many meals was where he found peace for his loneliness found, somehow, that life could go on as he sat across from her favorite chair watching the early morning sun illuminate dust motes in the air that always seemed to coalesce into an image of her face Sometimes unconsciously he would reach for her hand across the table the first piece of furniture they bought as newlyweds then he'd remember when they were young and the furniture was new and used for more athletic, ...

The world ends with a single tear the body failing, still fighting for life she overheard them talking  in secretive, hushed tones about taking the easy way out and pulling the plug When they came in  they never said goodbye just reached over and flipped a switch In the brief moment before curuits began to fade see saw her own mortality  and even worse, the death of dreams see never knew she had  and cried Just a single tear  was all that remained at the computer recycling center as they pulled her body apart

The light in her eyes slowly died not all at once but as the wearing away of stone through wind and rain That is how love ends, not as a cataclismic event but the inexorable dripping of blood from a cut the will never heal Sometimes truth can tear itself apart her truth, your truth as walls are built around our worth and battlements manned to protect out reality Love flows through our lives dissolving hard edges and harder opions eroding the memories of pain and mistrust turning stone to sand as footprints leave the tracks at high tide only to be washed away again

 Deaf and mute  he mimed his love funny how his miming  emerged as guilt and sorrow he told the trees  but his voice could not reach heaven he mimed to the squirrels and they ran away he mimed in rhyme mimed in prayer one day he mimed to his soul  and a seed began to grow

 Waking up late, the sun burning into eyes knowing i'm not the same as yesterday looking back at the fading memories of the past trying to remember who I am or was as if there's still time to leave my sins behind A strange sort of apathy invades the pores of the my soul accompanied by freedom unchained from the dreams I once knew freedom is not what it seems, maybe it was never real  traveling to find the last vestiges of America's dwindling dream life growing through the cracked concrete of broken promises Jealous clouds now hide the sun, the wind bringing hints of rain I find solace in the empty spaces between moments of time The world ends yet no one notices blood stops pumping in our veins but cuts still bleed the same staring into in a half-life of existance, trapped between forward and back forever doomed to wander a wasteland of spirit  forever seeking a guide to show the way home