Feb 24

lone till not.

like the heart 
beating against the inside of it's fleshy prison 
bars made of bone
rusted from the nothingness
peering through glass
but past
is the day full of light
and present is dark 
frigid, cold
like winter night
without your arms 
to hold me tight 
and fretting
i carry on 
the weight on my shoulders
hard to hold
tired arms
and words written in bold
hours spent
wasting away 
fantasizing bout the day 
when you will come back to me

solitary hours
early in the morn 
cleaning for no reason 
re-washing the floors 
that hours ago shone 
the empty chair 
calling me to come weep 
to come sit
and relive my weary feet
i gave in 
and now tear stained is the once flawless floor
so deep in my sorrow was i 
that i didn't even hear 
the soft click of the door
as from your lengthy journey 
you finaly returned.