Untitled

Darling, where do all the lost things go? 

Ash may disperse itself on the surface 

And vanish 

But your presence remains heavy 

Weighing down on my crown

A constant reminder

Of the pain I injected 

Into the fragile heart 

Of the one I love most. 


I, too, am lost in the morning dew

Circling myself

Riding any gust of wind that’ll take me 

A children’s kite - 

Made to be yours  

Created to crash into the mountain side 

Shredded so bad

It’ll cost more to patch my wounds 

Than to exchange me 

Brand new 

You could have at least tried 

With a few strips of scotch tape

But even that was too much 

For your constructed ego.  

It’s not who; it’s what.

Exchange your mother’s hand-made bracelet 

For a diamond sharp enough

To cut your wrists open again and again

You’re back where you started 

Far before I crashed; far before you even met me


Listen Darlin,

Some things are lost forever 

But others find their way back 

And the ones we lose aren’t ever really gone 

They find themselves 

In a world different from our own 

And all you can do is let go.