Driving along the invisible coast of loneliness
he knew his bruises hid more easily at night.
AVP
Driving along the invisible coast of loneliness
he knew his bruises hid more easily at night.
AVP
Tripping over broken halos
he realized he was not alone
AVP
An empty heart
leaves room to fill.
AVP
he hoped the lonely tears that fell down his cheeks
were like the raindrops that fall down from the sky …
for only a little while.
AVP
he freed his fingers from my hand
to paint his own van Gogh
on the side of another square
he felt was a better fit.
avp
with a carnival balloon in hand
and paper banjos playing softly beside the river
he walked home,
pausing only for a moment
to released the fictional helium hope
of ever finding his own huckleberry …
avp
the pile of faded out t-shirts
that sit silent in the corner of an empty room
still have the scented memories
of his wasted kisses, lost loves,
and the absent knowing
of how to feel something for someone.
avp
enduring the season
where wine numbs the hurt,
his feet push down old memories of missed loves
deep into the coarse shelled sand
where tides quickly wash away …
another year passed alone.
avp
looking outside
for what doesn’t live there anymore,
a rusted lock below the window
becomes a battle for one.
avp
shackled up under a floor of memories,
in chains cut and broken
teardrops filled his hands.
avp