"A Poem For You"

On this grey wintry morning
I try to write you a letter and again these words
They fail me. Shall I say that your love was incomparable
To mine? Shall my words be sorry or pointing you towards hope?

Blurry mind. Memories of when we were children - waking up next to one another.
Will you ever wake up and smile again? What I hate is that I am a coward. Poetry is for
cowards such as I. Talking in twisted tongues, slurring; drunk on beauty even when there isn't
any. But in your voice is truth. Truth always was your friend. She buoyed you up on her tides.
And you saw her reflection so perfect and languid in the water.

I'm the one who stumbled upon truth on land in her cave - and found how ugly she really was. Horrified
I could not forgive her for her lies while she smiled at me slyly; knowing that my fate had been written in so many inks.

How I wish you could remain simple and yet know these things. That your heart would know love but not know breaking. If I were to commit a crime would they cut off my tongue - so I'd never have to speak again to you.

As I make room for new tenants I find what is good is yours and decide to send you the things that belong to me. Suffer - isn't that how we came to be. Will Truth be your guide even on those nights when your body craves for food and death - will she say to you to let this pass while you can't comprehend the agony. I worry for you, but only that much. I fortify myself with words because I worry for myself more. I could not accept your gifts when you curse me. The thought of banishment shall keep me awake until the day I find sleep has justified everything perfectly and I am only a little numb.

We all lost. In forests, in water, at the races. There are no rewinds on this one. Wounds that take their own time to heal - some faster than others while some never do. We must choose which we will be for each other.
At a crossroad where our names clearly point in different directions; don't follow me. I no longer fear my own shadow and I can't stop storms that are yet to come.

Find yourself another song. Lamentations are just the end of this one. More tunes will come by and by. Do I sound like a cheat quoting hope at you? Not even my own.

I've been mad once and been strummed between chord variations I did not like. How can I ease this shade when it is not for me to ease. It is for you to cherish this blue. And sink until you wish to save yourself.