My heart is heavy.
My soul burdened.
My mind obliterated.
I cant find
no reason nor rhyme.
To just be fine.

I find my life is turning
Around with the tide.
Coming in and out
destitute and without.

Without choice.
Without need.
All I feel is that I bleed.
As a mark of a me.
To just want to be free.

My heart is heavy.
My mind in turmoil.

Just like some rolled up foil.
Discarded on the top
waiting to flop into the bin.

For once I have not found.
Anyone around which is rather profound.
To be here and then not.
I wish this could all be forgot.

The people we truly Love never leave us.
There will always be imprints on our Hearts
made by them.
And when we choose to Love again
It's like muscle memory

I've found the right words
I've felt the right emotions
I've shown you that I care
I've whispered many times
... I LOVE YOU

You've said the right words
You've felt the same emotions
You've shown the care I need
You've whispered many times
... YOU LOVE ME MORE

We both already felt
We both already care
There's more I longed than whispering words
... BUT NO ONE SHOULD EVER KNOW, NO ONE SHOULD EVER LEARN

... TILL THEN MY LOVE, HEAR MY WHISPER HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU

The din of winter is a window away
I've come here to stay at my Grandmother's
The bedroom aglow in her yellows and reds
The lamp by the bed

Beckoned by hands and a magical timbre
I'm starting towards her in answer,
recalling her manner
Her habits preserved as in amber

Sat by her side and embracing her then
I'm suddenly a child again,
her eighty-two years to my ten

Lies in an empty house
Hiding in the nooks and crannies
Where memories unfolded
Laughter was had
And now it's no more

You could call me sentimental
You could call me a fool
But I always dreamt
That it wouldn't end this way

I wish love was real
My heart yearns for a welcoming place
Where I can show my face
And not be lost in this mess

There once was a tiny dragon,
No larger than the palm of my hand.
She burned no village, stole no princess,
Her name not spoken in fear throughout the land.
She hoarded not gold, not jewels,
Cared not for such frivolous things.
It was memories she kept in her miniscule cave
She guarded with flickering fire and scrap wings.

I went to her cave in the mountains.
Stumbled on it, by mistake;
As I lay down my head at the roots of a tree,
By an obscure and secluded lake.
She emerged in her miniature splendour,
From beneath a nearby rock.
She let out a yawn of fire;
And I froze: in awe, in shock.
She grinned a needlepoint grin,
Beckoned with one curved claw
Into her miniscule cave,
I followed: in shock, in awe.

I peered through the half-hidden opening,
Only inches larger than my head.
The dragon spoke soft but thunderous,
And this is what was said:
“This is my hoard, young human.
This is all I hold dear in the world.”
And she handed to me a birthday card -
Some edges singed, some curled.

It had writing in a swirling foreign script
That seemed to be etched, not written.
“This is the love of my first ever crush,
In the days when we were still smitten.”
“Is this all?” I scoffed, “Just pieces of paper,
and wrappers and old useless things?”
Her doll-sized body began to shudder
With a judder of claws and a flutter of wings.

No larger than my littlest finger,
She was a smaller version of herself;
But still I froze as she perched on my nose,
To her, a sizeable shelf.
“You hold no value to memories?
Then why don’t you leave yours behind?
Since they strike you as being so useless,
I’m certain you wouldn’t mind.”

Now all my memories are scraps,
Shadows of what they once were.
I wonder if she kept them somewhere,
In that diminutive cave with her.
Notes from a wife I think I had:
About the shopping, the kids? The car?
A card from my parents, a gift from a friend,
A reason for this faint lip scar.
I try to keep letters, tickets, receipts,
Compulsively, I feel I must.
But whenever I reach for that link to my past,
It is nothing but ash, but dust.