A thousand winks gone and still I miss you.
Past twenty fits thrown and still I need you.

In the grass of mourn the evergreen weeds
crisp at the edges. Your sentences still cut
like silicate, my hate slicing insides. I want to
want that thing that I promised you I wouldn't
want, but I want my fall. Sorry for blubbering.

Oh, the shuddering want for you.
I am not the picture you fell for.
What then was a filter
is now a prickling scrape
slowly dropping
tearing my face.

I wake from the sorrow sometime
and taste the lemon in your sublime.

I smile lonely, in the way you can
only smile when you can when sad
is a precious gift, because you remember
the depression. These tears are
your parting treasure and I endeavor
to keep them for as long as your
laughter still crystal-shines my walls.

Bright in your absence.
The glow of dance ethereal
twisting to grasp scent
lost in the humidity of my wail.

I still fail to see how you could want
what I would kill. There still is little
there still is something I left when
you left, when you saw that my
pain would never fix and ditched
me so ever rightfully to love
you less than my keening for nada.

I gotta get up and get over
this feeling of death warmed
over, but the scatter-shot
of my ambition left me pin-holed.
I drink and keep no drops.
Drought becomes the season
of my loss. Oh, but you were a thunder.

Deluge of my soul
doth quench loneliness
what was parched
now swamp
to dry rich and fertile.
I struggle with seeds

never deep enough to take root
if only your garden wasn't barren
of course that was you carrying
the rowmaker, the hoe, the sun

I won what you reaped
now sickly, I seek now
other joy but a love
a nation of clouds
wants to smother in storms
I yearn for another chance
though I have earned
no dance
no walk of leisure
this moment of earnest
churning made to break
my surface to let in
the water and seed
and all those gifts
given always freely

I break from these hours of feeling sad for what's spent.
I gave you my all and appreciate you still being my friend.
Give me your hand, once more, and I swear to you this time,
this way, through this grave I lay, I will rise and be the crop
that others crave. I will feed their empty to repay your kind.