Goldenrose

in the beam of headlights

a flash of motion darts across dark asphalt.

brakes slam,

a breath catches in the throat. 

and the stillness of a stopped car 

Everybody has somebody — the person who is their everything and whom they never want to go without. 

It could be for a long time or a short time, a moment or an age. 

I write with a knife

It cuts into my heart

Spilling it onto the paper

My emotions

My thoughts

Painted with blood

Once I start

There is no stopping

I bleed

Begging for someone

Sometimes we stay outside

on your front steps.

It’s peaceful there.

There are no cars  

or stomping feet.

There are no dishes 

Words scatter 

             don’t scare them away

we tread with trepidation -- slowly, they gather

again