Keep

Come let us read the same poems over and over again.
Relive our lives.

I miss him.
Indirectly most times
But like a hammer to my head
During others
When all the senses in my brain start buzzing
Electric.

I miss his touch.
His love. His love. His love.
His kind eyes full of glory
I'm sorry
I've run out of witty things to say
Toys to play
With.

It's becoming dark again.
Our eyes clouding over.
Harassing me with wanton
Wishes lighting up my brain with all these fireworks we've lit up
Love, I miss your love.

There will never be another....
Or maybe there will be another
Just there will never be another you
For me.
You'll see.
I already see.
Too late.
Too little.
Too, fucking, late.

P.P.D.

Wouldn't I be 

just the perfect heartbreak story?

If you wanted to hear that sort of a tale.

Just a polaroid you shake

Over and over again.

Hoping the thought lines change

Hoping the colors brighten, just a bit

Hoping it's not all hollow.

That it hasn't been too late

That the nitrate under the tongue

Was quick enough,

To dissolve.

To revive

Some electricity in that head.

Wouldn't I make the perfect picture 

to draw

Blood from?

Beads of sweat mixed with angst

An insignificant muse

Too wordly to poison.

But with just enough magic

To want to destroy.

Oh, Troy!

Was it all for me?

In heat

In despair.

Will I always scream?

"My kingdom for a nail, my kingdom!"

For a rusty, old nail.