Prose

So hide my hunger,

and my fear- 

deep within your wake I will bury myself

That which was once a heart

it can no longer break

Do my words sound as sour as they taste?

Oh be still for now,

you are so young you do not know,

what is coming..

this night, it too, will pass you by

and you will be aged at seventy five

wondering why you had wasted your precious time

picking petals off roses

and waiting for a sign

god will not speak to those who only cry

your sorrow,

your self loathing comes at a price

so lay your head in this lap

close your eyes

you and I both know,

this too will pass

you can not be the one to mend a wound

from anothers past,

and

I hate to see how it is killing you,

the harder you try.