And so it goes (poem)

In the little room in the corner of my heart,

I find sanctuary from the pain beating through it,

a constant methodological beat of grief and sorrow

made up of the voices of all I've lost.

The room is warmly lit by a dim desk lamp

standing on the corner of the little desk

next to an inkwell and a white fountain pen,

papers with maddened scribbles covering the rest.

And amongst the chaos I create,

I find the clarity that the beating drowns out,

the lesson, the answer, to my questions of pain,

so I may emerge to soothe my aching heart.

-Zero

Insomnia's whispers (poem)

Disconnected,

broken,

forgotten.

Tell me where the path split

and I found myself in this dark wood.

Did I chase Love out this way,

or was I running in fear?

I don't know.

Settled into a mold of weird,

my ambition is tempered by reality

and hopelessness.

Why reach for the stars when it's impossible

to seize them in my hands?

Speaking of hearing flames

while white noise drowns out everything.

Can I even hear the call anymore?

Or have I decided not to answer?

I don't know...

Promises to be better,

to change,

followed by excuses.

A story waiting in anticipation,

only to be left half finished.

- Zero

Catching up in our dreams (poem)

Meet me in my dreams like old times,

like last night.

Come speak with me by the waterfall

that crashes down on an eternal flame.

Tell me how you've been as we wander

across the vibrant world we built together.

Tell me about your brothers and your mother

as we pass the singing trumpet flowers.

How is living with him and being a step-mother?

Sit on this throne of dreams formed by your hope,

and command spectres to act it out on the stage.

And as the full moon is engulfed in orange flames,

I will tell you how I've been,

how I've found myself without words

as if the pen has rejected me,

how I've decided against keeping my dreams

for fear their meaningless might drive me mad,

how I lost myself in someone else's work

and filled my time with constant noise.

And as the stormy ocean crashes against the rocks below,

I'll assure you that I'm fine,

that it's not as bad as it sounds,

that this place just seems fitting for these truths -

this place we lived in and built for years

on paper in ink and in our hearts in blood.

Time changes everything,

but the eternal flame still burns.

-Zero

Sense and Sensibility (poem)

Lose your heart,

and come to your senses.

Abandon your love,

and return to perception:

feel the wind slide past,

hear the chickadees sing,

see the sun's light crash down,

smell the fire's smoke,

taste the blood in your mouth.

There had to be something,

and there was.

-Zero

Nothing left to say (poem)

I dreamt of you last night,

of breaking this silence between us

and asking you to meet me in private

so we could finally talk.

We went up into a bedroom,

and shut the door behind us.

You looked at me expectantly:

“So, what did you want to say?”

I opened my mouth to speak,

only to find myself with nothing to say.

I had no pleas for forgiveness,

no screams of frustration, nothing.

It's not like before.

Before, I had to marry silence

to keep myself from contacting her.

This silence comes naturally.

Maybe all of this lingering

really is just out of habit.

There's nothing left between us,

and nothing left to say.

-Zero