It’s raining in madness. skies weeping tall
tales of endless worries, those that trouble my
hands and make them shake in the fading light.
But you take them, hold them close until my
fingers are numb with your love and and now

I’m weeping. Because there are too many moments
Like this. me, sitting by porch swings that never
existed, and you just

watching

waiting.

and i’d Like to say something, but the words
that I wish for simply clog up in my
damaged throat – rough with screaming and
fits of rage – so I sit quietly, waiting, like you
for the right moment

but another year

passes by,

noticed by only me, and
I never understood foolish words. you
taught me that laughter and smiles in jovial
Tunes
Never truly left their faces.

But for tongue-tied words, and the wishes
that batter-ram against my white skeleton chest . . .
they are always there, hidden by ugly catch-phrases
and second-thoughts come too fast.

And yet, another year passes by

And still you are waiting there. Watching
me.

I have yet to wonder what you see. Clumsy bodies and
lolling tongues, viper fast scars, and bruises that I made.
the one thing i seem to understand though, is that
what you see is far more beautiful

than i could ever say
in words.