Saw in the mirror

I wear my heart on my face

Hollow and alone

I am a fool to

believe your love, but am a

bigger one to not

Fighting temptations

To let sleep blanket the truth

You keep me awake

your infectious joy

fills a space with warmth and light

...and it makes me smile

My fat tears slide down

A chameleon's sharp face

As I slowly drown

What if being true

Is just a grand illusion?

Is it all a lie?

She holds back her light

Hoarding her vitality

As we mark off days

you hold me tightly

while Ray whispers, "Can I stay?"

knocking me sideways

the grooves in your past

stay firm, molded by your touch

hoping you'll come back

"All bad poetry

springs from genuine feeling."

Oscar Wilde was right.