The Trend.

I watched the waves.
They crashed into the rocks.
A done-to-death metaphor.

I saw the foam stick.
I saw the spray hit the air.
While you slept.
Blissful.
The trend of all lovers.
Once the passion is dead.

The sea will recede.
The rocks at least have faith.
The sea will return.

I walk back home.
To my side of the bed.
Sleepless and faithless.

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Breathless

I can't breathe.
I try hard,
But I fail.
I follow
All the rules;
I still lose.
I am free;
But in life.
In all love,
I am caught.
Wrestling hard,
Against pain
And sorrow.
People see
Just the smile
And the love;
But the tears
The tears, tears,
Are all lost,
In silence.
No one sees
(Or chooses
To see) them.
I shudder
To wonder:
If all life
Is this way…
Or maybe,
Some morning
Will bring peace
With the love,
And all life
Will quiet.
But I think
That then is
Death.

A Fool’s Hope

Everything is right.
Everything seems fine.
Everything is love.
Everything has time.

The flowers will not die.
The food will not go bad.
The water will not dry.
The smile will not be sad.

This love is here to stay,
That is what lovers say,
There is no need to fear,
It’ll be here everyday.

Loneliness won’t occur,
For promises are made;
No one betrays hope here,
No memory shall fade.

I won’t be left alone,
That can’t ever be true;
You love me very much,
Much more than I do you.

Time can’t rage its battle;
Love cures all that pains;
Life has no mastery,
No one hears it’s complaints.

Losing you isn’t possible,
It’s never been so before;
No one leaves love’s house,
Once you’ve shut the door.

I worry needlessly:
Everyone holds me dear;
You most of all (I think)
Give me no cause to fear.