Coming from my sacred place

I know how my mind works

and quite honestly

I can easily claim

I wish I never knew what to say.

Clearly I can go back

and remember a time

when her fame

was all that ever mattered.

I can remember the taste,

the joy we felt,

devouring the hours hungrily.

The girl had her faults and charms

to me she was as perfect as anyone.

What difference had it meant

even I clearly knew

this girl wasn’t strictly mine.

You see,

sharing things

was the girl’s critical flaw

and somehow

she gave much too much of herself.

It was almost as if

she wasn’t allowed to love.

I wasn’t better than

or hold a stronger hand

the problem I had

with this girl I loved

she couldn’t care

who was who.

She would meet them there

and bring them here

to have them quickly

fall in line.

A cog in a chain,

as the list quickly grew

disgust had a new life.

It never truly mattered

being the most beautiful one

beauty was never denied.

So as I sit here now

and profusely claim

She was the first

if ever there was.

(Left Over Thoughts)

the more I shared

she lay imbedded now

in thoughts of guilt and distrust.

The girl I knew

has been gone for years

and yet

next to me

her ghost clearly stands.

I can see the lines in her face

her complexion has grown

she’s tired now

afraid to be left on her own.