While in repose, still and silent, it is not nothing that I hear. Subtle whispers
“Don’t say anything!” spoke the shadow in the doorway. I was seven years of age. I lay limp upon the couch, still recovering from
I saw him for the first time ever; the one who stole my soul away. He appeared in a dream. I had never seem him before, yet no doubt it was him.
These words I cry do not come easily; as if they echo from the cold stone depths of a long forgotten tomb.
It’s only you that I can trust to hear these words as true. Those I know seem blinded by some notion or another about me. You are my closest confidant
Way up there on that hill of yours; that most hard-won ivory tower. Hiding there behind your perfect guise
Alone, in the same old crowd, trying to ignore this stifling pain. I am but
That blue-gray rainy day, the blue-gray funeral parlor. There you were laid out in blue and gray. So still.
Oh, knower of my heart, this trembling voice cries out in words that cannot begin to tell how deep my longing is for thee.
That cranky old mongrel hound cooped up down the alley; he ain’t got no teeth no more but he still knows how to snarl. he gets them young pups all worked…
My love for you is true, though we have never met. I will not lie to you. I will not steal from you. I will not con or cheat you.
My father has come to dinner; He does not knock. He is not welcome. He is dead. Yet he insists on joining me
Late at night; another helter-skelter day, having flown off unexpectedly into alien domains of disarray. So many urgent moments
Time wears away at me, like water on a stone, oh, so slowly, but inevitably, drop by drop,
Sweet sultry muse, I declare this solemn oath before all that’s true and holy, that this earthly life and love are yours and yours alone,
