What I Wanted to Tell You (Poem)

I wanted to say

“I love you,”

When the silence took us.

Both times.

I thought the quiet

Begged for the words.

I was wrong,

Just like the first time.

Really, what the silence wanted

Was a truth I couldn't face:

That we were never meant to be,

That even love has its limits.

The last time,

I walked away distraught.

I thought I had failed,

Until I finally saw myself.

At that moment,

I understood it all.

Goodbye wasn't a curse,

But a return to who I am.

-Zero

The Frustrating and Mysterious Spark (Poem)

I'm too drawn

Into this mystery

To leave it.

It stops my heart,

And shocks it back.

All I can ask is “why?”

This beating question

That pulls us together,

And keeps us apart:

It grows and grows,

Devours possibility,

Utilizes magic.

How else could I

Describe this burning chest,

Set aflame three years past?

How could sparks exist

When the fire hasn't been fed,

Except by gods or magic?

A single kiss,

A test to see,

Fed the flames,

When I should have left,

When stupidity reigned supreme,

When our lips reunited.

And I hate it!

If it's love,

I despise love itself!

Why should it be so impossible?

Why must it be so unforgettable?

Why can't it die?

Let's take it to be love!

The demon!

The saint!

We are bound together

By chains

For eternity!

Oh how I despite this...

Trapped to you,

The dangerous mystery,

My vow to life,

And to the Grave,

Spoken without will.

-Zero

But I'll Be Gone (Poem)

Tonight

Is the full moon.

Look how it glistens,

How it shines,

How its light touches all.

Watch the clouds

As they pass it by.

Soak it all up,

Feel its light,

Touch the stars.

This full moon,

We're apart.

No celestial being

Has protested;

The moon still shines.

Once upon a time,

Our eyes could meet,

Our hands could touch,

Our lips could kiss.

But this is no fairytale.

Tonight

Is the full moon.

Maybe you'll think of me,

Want to see me,

And share one more moondance.

-Zero

The Silence Screams the Truth (poem)

The night is quiet.

No rustling.

No chirping.

No breathing.

Where are you?

The bed is empty.

Made.

Four am.

No sleep.

I miss you.

You're asleep.

Grinding teeth.

Mumbling nonsense.

Snoring lightly.

I wish I was there.

-Zero

The Question at the Door (poem)

The door was open,

But she wouldn't enter.

She paced in the hall,

As he paced in his mind.

There was one question,

The Question,

The shadow of Shakespeare,

To be or not to be.

Maybe it wasn't about love,

Or even about each other.

Maybe the darkness he painted

Was the same as hers:

Loneliness.

Yearning.

Frustration.

Depression.

Maybe their love was empty,

But it doesn't matter.

In the darkness,

It was a light.

Maybe enough little lights

Could illuminate the world,

Break down the walls,

And banish the Question.

-Zero