Wandering through winter,
I'm so warm during the day-
The sun shining upon my face,
A golden blanket
Covering me, and
Loving me.
I feel so alive.

And at night,
As she slips away
Slowly and
Quietly,
I am cold & alone.

My poor hands
Can never hold heat.
Everything is a tired effort
And I can't create.

The dark is unfriendly
Unfamiliar
And I search for ways
To build light
Without her presence.

Artificial,
Unorganic rays
To guide the way,
Can't hold up to
The sincere, nurturing star.

My petite limbs
Have nothing
To photosynthesize.

Dissolve

Blank expressions.
Eyes meeting.
Silence.
"You got something to say?"
No, no.
I'm just waiting for you to kiss me,
To draw me in,
Plant your face on mine.

I want my lips to dissolve in your solution.

My body shouldn't miss you like this.
I'm just looking for a proper goodnight.

No man should be so blessed
For using hands to paint hate
Instead of life.
To imprint anger on a canvas face
And streak red fingers around another's neck.
Yet, he is praised,
Given an award
By the people and critics
For his mindless serenading--
Wool over every young heart's eyes.
He is welcomed with open arms.
It was a shame and quite and inconvenience
That he be absent from the festivities.
Let the prodigal son come home!
The exiled prince
Rule and
Govern
His way.