I'm scared my life has no meaning.

Your head on my pillow.
Your breath warming my neck.
Your hands enveloping my waist.
There are times when I close my eyes
And I can't see your face.
I can't feel your touch.
And I wonder
If you died,
would I still exist;
Or be an empty space,
A hollow where your arms
Used to rest,
A vacuum for the whispers
Your lips used to press
Against my neck.

Her skin is pale and flushed.
You can't bring her back
To where she came from.
The wind is high
And your skin is burning
From the cold.

Let her go if you must.
If you can't pull her in
To your warm chest.
If you can't hold her tight
And let the wind
Carry you both away.

I want to touch you.
Your body is my painted sky.
Your warm fingertips
Are the rays of the sun.

You wouldn't know it,
By the colour of her skin
Or the look she gives you
From her seat in the corner
Of the laughing room,
But before the break of day
She has already bought the train ticket
That will take her far away.

In the mid-afternoon sun,
She packs a suitcase
And puts up her hair.

Each time a different destination;
New York, Paris, Halifax.
By evening, she has been drunk away
By thoughts of a new life;
A better beginning.

She can never bring herself to leave.

The night brings his soft, gentle kiss,
Her tired eyes fall finally
As sleep catches her in his arms.

Paris can wait.

I want to see you again.
The freckles across your nose.
Your hand when its cold.

One day, everything will be beautiful.
And we won't have to wait.

Small fingers pressing down
On each broken piano key.
And you can't hear the music.

One day, our love will fall away.
Hollow vessels of broken melodies.

Her love was made of sparrows' bones. Tied together with dolls' hair, and bits of string. His hand left a string of purple chasing round her neck.

At night, when she sang lullabies her mother knew, he unraveled the strings that closed up her heart. He spun out her fondest memories, her simple joys, her farthest dreams. Then he hung them out, one by one, still while she sang her mother's favourite songs.

In the dark, the nightmares crept in and drew close to her heart's loves. Brushed up against them in a sweet embrace, like the caressing wind. And, one by one, they tore her memories, her hopes, her dreams down.

When dawn came, with open eyes, she sewed her love back together, and fixed the gaping holes as best she could, with tiny, trembling fingers.

Don't scream this time
I'll promise you something
To fall asleep to.
We're sleeping on air.
We're breathing in cold ash.
We're falling through time.
You're the pain in my stomach,
The need in my bones.
This is too comfortable
For our cause.
Regret washes us over,
Drags our bones across the sea.
Drying out on land,
We are plucked thin
And skeletons starved.
Something is missing - lost -
In the question.
It falls away.