Where

And where are you
as I crumble;
as I teeter on this emotional
abyss?

Wait!
Don't answer.
That's not the important
question.

I doesn't matter where
you are.
What matters is where
you aren't.

So,
why aren't you with me?

~ ~ ~

* Apologies for the self-indulgent crap. I'm having a breakdown today, TYVM.

Sunday Mornings

I sigh on Sunday
mornings, dawning clear
cold with realization
that my life
be not as it should
and my love
be not as it could

emptiness lies
where once lived trust
and armor guards
against its return
scars of bleeding hope
a constant ache
in my hollow whole

the shroud is heavy
yet it skins my wounds
and I wonder if ever
without it I'll walk
again

I awake with a start
and start with a sigh
crying not for what is felt
but feeling what is not
on Sunday mornings

~ ~ ~

Thank you!

~ ~ ~

Preditors & Editors Polling

The year-end polls are up, and yours truly is again nominated. Last year, both I and my poem Tapestry finished in the Top 10.

Please visit the site and cast your votes in the following categories:

Poet published in 2007...
Alessia Brio [ VOTE HERE ]

Poem published in 2007...
forked [ VOTE HERE ]

Thanks, and HAPPY NEW YEAR!

~ ~ ~