Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Ever Still, Ever Dark

I think I've forgotten
How the feel of warmth
Feels with this ice
Overtaking me

I am but a buoy
Miles away from shore
And the yellow-white
Beams of the lighthouse
Fall so short
so far from me

Black are my eyes
Cold is my heart
Purple, my lips
And sore, my soul

My cheeks
Were the fancy
Of Mr. Frost
They sting now
From Jack's kisses

And tears no longer
Make their way
To the bottom
Of my stone face

Because there's no hope left to cry for

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