Smoke

Curling creeping clouding
my vision of you.
I see you as you should have been.
As you would have been
As I needed you to be.

I now know not what
is keeping me from you
except the feeble innocence
of one who does not deserve to be hurt.

The smoke that fills your lungs
and your brain and your heart;
polluting, purifying, which is it?

Torn

So cold but sweating
I reach out to touch you while I pull my hand back

An old song plays
lifting floating memories
Memorizing lines on your face.
Don't be sad... please

Forgetting and free
Mind flies to the beat of your heart
Not replacing, but covering;
you write me a new song

I am torn
Old song, can I forget you?
New song, can I leave you?
Or should I live without music?

Swingset

I hate the swing on which I sit
Sadly I'm a part of it.
I cannot rise, I cannot fall
I cannot move my ass at all.
I can't control the swing
It moves me wildly, playing
Toying with my greatest fears
Spinning wildly through the years
I hate the swing on which I sit
I want badly to be rid of it
But I do not have the power
To leave the swing, not for an hour

Whispering wind
caressing hair, beating brow
dizzying velocity of fuzzy emotion
I drag my feet but it doesn't slow
I am not in control

Madness engulfing...
I
Need.
Direction.